


The Mountain of Light

by XxIrisxX



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Obsessive Thranduil, Perhaps sensual play, Romance, Sensual Play, mad Thror, obsessive Thror, prince Thorin, rash Kili, rational Thorin, shiny jewel, undead Thrain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:16:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 21,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxIrisxX/pseuds/XxIrisxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Centuries after Thingol's fall, the most precious 'lost' jewel of his kin resurfaces and Erebor wants to have it all to itself. For the sake of his growing obsession, Thrór is willing to do anything to obtain it. Thranduil is willing to do anything to house it himself. AU-ish. Established Thorinduil.</p>

<p></p><address> Fanart contributed by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/velvet_vampiress/pseuds/velvet_vampiress">velvet_vampiress.</a>
</address> (Site mentioned in chapter 9).
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own ‘The Hobbit’ or even the titular jewel. 
> 
> AN: I just had this in my mind and I *had* to go with it. Still unsure of the entire plot. Still unsure what turn it will take but...you know when plot bunnies bite, right? ;)  
> The jewel mentioned here is The Mountain of Light which is a literal translation of the name of the infamous diamond Koh-i-Noor. Sincere thanks to Achromos for the awesome Sindarin translations.

 

For centuries and more, Thingol was supposed to be the greatest of all the elven rulers there ever lived. His conquests were well known as were the many good deeds which glorified the great king. They all considered Thingol to be the king of kings. All aspired to be like him. To achieve like him.

 What started out as facts began to be woven into stories. Great tales of epic conquests. Lores of extraordinary battles; spoken by mouth of men, women and children—all pertaining to the grandeur of his kingdom and the exemplariness of his wise judgements

 Lores that depicted the golden age that thrived under the great ruler. Lores that depicted great wealth that was flaunted by all under the great ruler.

With time, facts became history, history became stories, stories became lores and lores became legends.

As more time passed by, the legends themselves would become tweaked and blurred; they’d be further woven by following generations—each one a little bit different than the other. However, what all of them had in common was the king’s exquisite collection of all things precious. And most importantly, they all spoke of the greatest treasure of them all.

The Ered en Calad.

Said to be the biggest and brightest of all, this mystical jewel was a symbol of great pride and prestige; of enormously incomparable beauty and he who was said to possess it was considered the wealthiest being of all. And it was housed by Thingol.

With Thingol’s bereavement, the jewel passed hands into the next lines. However, as it is with greed, the jewel attracted all kinds of trouble. Many wars had been waged over it. Some were won, some were lost and each time the winning side would claim it as the rightful loot of war.

 Thingol’s life went by defending his homeland and preventing his most prized possession from falling into foreign hands.

Thingol passed. His immediate successors were not much apt enough to protect. War ensued. The elves lost. Mesmerised by its beauty, they could all but repent at the loss of their home and the loss of their object of desire.

The kingdom was broken and the diamond was forever lost.

* * *

 

Kíli stepped gingerly into the most lavish of all the royal chambers. He was summoned by none other than the ruler of Erebor. His grandfather.

 Thrór.

He waited outside the door and took deep breaths, unsure of what the old ruler wanted with him. He was notorious for making trouble all over the palace and so far, the complaints were dealt by Thorin. His uncle.

So he had to wonder.

He knocked softly and steadied himself. Everyone knew Thrór’s reputation of being a wise and strong ruler. And having to be under the same roof as him, Kíli well understood just how _strong_ his grandfather could be. In physical as well as _mental_ terms.

However, all his nerves left him as the booming voice from the other side of the door granted him permission.

“You wanted to see me, Your Highness?” He asked, bowing courteously. 

Thrór was seated in one of the twin throne styled chairs as he looked down at his young progeny. He nodded and gestured Kíli to be at ease as his voice thundered in his great room.

“Come closer Grandson.” Motioning for Kíli to do the same, Thrór began speaking in a tone which commanded away every bit of distractions those could’ve still lingered.

The young dwarf nodded attentively, straightening himself as his grandfather continued, “You are probably aware of a jewel and the great tales those depict its astounding beauty.”

Kíli narrowed his eyes hesitantly, silently searching in his mind for any such reference. However, no matter how much he tried, the only thing his mind came up with was none other than the Arkenstone.

_That’s not it. He has that!_

He stayed quiet and he was about to ask his doubt with much probability of being discredited when Thrór himself decided to relieve him off that pressure.

“The Ered en Calad.”

Not much was elaborated and not much was needed to. The words which were spoken themselves bore an air of gravitas all around them.

Kíli felt his eyes widen at the very name. He thought he must’ve heard it otherwise, for in no way could anyone— anyone _sane_ — be taking its name so abruptly in the early break of morning!

However, Thrór wasn’t joking and every inch of his face shelved grains of seriousness ss he looked sternly at the other.

“Yes, mother told us stories. She said it was a sight to behold.” He replied finally when he was able to find the voice he thought he had lost.

Thrór seemed to be somewhat pleased about Kíli’s lack of ignorance and kept on staring at him. For a while, an uncomfortable silence stretched between the two and Kíli felt his breath hitching in his chest each time his eyes met those of the other’s while he scrutinized him.

_What does he want?_

He thought, barely resisting the urge to voice his contemplation all the while anxiety overtook him.

Never before had Kíli felt such an onslaught of nerves. He greatly respected and admired the king and ever since he was a dwarfling, all he ever wanted was to be coming into the sight of his mighty grandfather. Suddenly, he felt that urge of him earning Thrór’s admiration and pride growing within him steadily as the king set his intense gaze at him.

Thror’s eyes gleamed. The old king smiled at the younger prodigy and said, “And she is absolutely right. It is a great thing of beauty and is very unique in every sense of the word. Those who are in possession of it are not only rightful but also _worthy.”_

“But I thought it was lost!” He said abruptly, unable to hold his tongue in cheek anymore.

The king paused and rose up from his chair, approaching the other. His eyes shone brightly and as he placed a strong arm over the younger one’s shoulder, Kíli could see the light his grandfather held just moments before was now dancing to an unknown rhythm.

“It _was_ lost or thought to have been. “  Thrór replied, a certain resolution being echoed from his voice. “But I know where it is. And I’ll show you too if you swear on utter secrecy.”

Kíli resisted his urge to shift as his eyes bore straight into a murkier pair. He swallowed as nerves got hold of him yet again.

Still, he breathed in deeply and unwilling to disappoint the king he asked, “What would you have me do, Your Highness?”

At that, the glint in Thror’s eyes became even sharper. “See that map? Bring it here.”

Kíli did as he was told. The king sprawled it over a desk and nodded for the other to observe it closely as he traced a certain area with his fingers.

“See this? I’m well informed that the jewel lies somewhere around here.” He said in a tone that swam down to octaves below. As each word escaped his mouth, the resolution vibrated more intensely.

“There?” As for the other, he couldn’t hold back his surprise any longer. His eyes hovered over the region as pointed out by the king and as if on cue, his eyes grew wider and wider, threatening to pop off from his sockets as his throat felt immaculately dry.

Thrór nodded. “Yes, Grandson. The jewel is there and I’m certain of it. I want you to do something which my old bones are too weary of doing. Go. Restore the honour and prestige of Erebor.”

 A slow smile appeared under the thick fur of beard as the glint in his orbs shone with sharp and contrasting lustre.

“Bring it to _me_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unsure of the eventual plot...I'm just pitching it as I go. Darn it the other one came so easily! Buuuuut...I decided to make it established!Thorinduil. Also, Thrain is alive. And Thorin is the prince of Erebor.
> 
> I think I'll keep this story short just so that I don't get frustrated and lose interest. ^^;

The night was covered with peace and tranquillity. The sky was clear and was adorned with thousands and thousands of stars valiantly burning far away. The full moon which accompanied them glowed with a soft light, bathing Erebor with its cool and delicate beams.

Thorin was up at the corridor looking ahead and taking in the beauty which only the late hours of night could provide. He was tired and yet not a single trace of sleep could be found in his eyes. And how could he sleep? How could he get a stretch of peace when just hours before he had another tussle with his grandfather?

The old king was seemingly getting more and more introverted. As his aloofness grew, so did his unquenchable thirst for gold and treasure he guarded with his very life.

He sighed and focused his gaze at the night sky. The stars...they reminded him of a pair of bright twinkling orbs and the moon and its eerie glow were the very reminiscent of the one. _His_ one.

His mind wandered back to the day when they first met in the halls of Erebor. It was purely diplomatic. Under no circumstances, anything other than boorish treaties and talks of co-operation was to be expected.

And there amidst that unlikely environment, Thorin's expectation grew ten folds.

Thorin perfectly remembered how gracefully he strolled up to Thrór and how delicately he conveyed his emotions through his eyes and a tiny twitch of his lips. It was the elven king and _he_ was a sight to behold.

However, his inner revelation didn't last long. Thorin was quickly brought back to reality as his keen ears picked up hushed scurrying of quick feet going past him.

He narrowed his eyes and focused at the dark corridors, wondering if he had heard something. Again, the scurrying of feet occurred and this time it felt more cautious.

Thorin straightened himself and very carefully traced the direction of the sound. Now he was sure it was not just his ears ringing. It had definitely been somebody and the way he moved bode all the alertness a trained warrior like Thorin would ever need.

Having identified the intended direction, Thorin cautiously followed the corridor all the while keeping himself from making any unwanted sound.

He could really do with some unnecessary trouble at the moment. So he sincerely hoped it was nothing of great concern and that it was but a mere rat or rodent of some sort. Should it be a rodent, it would be properly dealt with. Should it be a _mole_...well, it would certainly have no ambiguous treatment as well!

* * *

Kíli adjusted himself on his pony, mindful of keeping the noise down each step he took forward. He quickly glanced behind and just prayed that he wasn't being followed. He swore to his great grandfather that he would involve nobody but himself and he intended to make Thrór trust him.

For a moment, he was concerned that Thorin would catch up to him and demand to know what he was doing. He wasn't expecting his uncle to be up that late at night. And if it was anything which was difficult, that'd be lying on his uncle's face!

When he was absolutely certain that it was only him and his pony, he felt confident enough to reach into his pocket and pull out the map Thrór had shown him.

As his eyes traced over the destined region, his mind automatically flashed the image of his great grandfather staring at him with the intensity of thousand suns combined.

The look he had in his eyes...it wasn't _dwarf like._ It was anything but. Kíli, with all honestly, could _swear_ that had never witnessed such a look on somebody's face. It was the very glimpse of a one track mind and it had simply made the younger dwarf shudder whenever his mind lingered on it for far too long.

Suddenly without any warning, his pony came to a dead halt.

"Well?" Kíli frowned, not taking his eyes off the map, "What is it Bungle? Go ahead!"

He poked it with his boots and instead of Bungle sprinting off like usual, all the pony did was let out a snort. It even took a step and a half back.

Confusion burrowed in Kíli's mind at his pony's sudden unexplained behaviour.

"Go on, Bungle?" He poked it again and as the pony snorted, he finally lifted his head up with extreme annoyance. His irritation however immediately dissolved away as he felt his face go ashen at the very sight before him.

Blocking his way stood none other than Thorin Oakenshield. He was atop his own pony and by the look of his face he was none too pleased to find his nephew out and about in the middle of the night.

Kíli tried to appear calm but his sense of calmness quickly evacuated as he heard his uncle speak, "Care to explain this, Nephew?" He asked in a grave voice and Kíli tried not to flinch at the seriousness of his tone.

"Uncle...I..." He fumbled with words, deciding what excuse he could _possibly_ provide. Anything that could explain him with his bow, arrows and a map in hand was certainly a welcomed relief.

Thorin waited patiently. He raised an expecting brow while glaring squarely at his nephew. "And what is it in your hands?" He prompted at the map and locked Kíli's gaze with an ardent focus.

"I uh...it's a map, Uncle." Kíli tried to stall vainly. He knew he could not keep this game up for long and eventually he'd have to answer to Thorin.

"Kíli!" His uncle admonished and the younger dwarf finally let out a sigh in defeat. He breathed in deeply before he finally dared to speak, "I was asked to visit a particular realm. In lieu of political co-ordinations."

Thorin's brow rose further as he looked curiously at his nephew.

"Political co-ordinations?" His brows now crossed to a frown which deepened more and more as he seemed to contemplate something in his mind. "On whose word are you going for this political co-ordination? And that too in such stealth at _this_ hour of the night!"

Kíli felt stiff before his uncle's scrutinizing gaze. He felt his throat drying but he camouflaged his discomfort well while he spoke with apparent confidence, "By the king's order. I thought if I left now, I could be there by morning."

"King's order?" Thorin, however, was far too seasoned to be taken for a fool. His eyes flashed suddenly with a residual anger as he glared at the younger one, "Grandfather put you up for this and he couldn't say this to _me_?"

Kíli refrained from shrugging. Thorin's pallor grew more and more intense as his frown deepened and the anger clearly smouldered in his eyes.

"You will return _immediately_ , Kíli. Give me the map and go home. This errand can wait for a few hours more."

"No but," Kíli's protest came almost out of reflex and he could barely resist the urge to groan openly when he had just provided Thorin with even more cause of suspicion.

As was supposed, his uncle tilted his head in tremendous suspicion and asked tauntingly, "What could be of such importance that it cannot wait till dawn? Or is it..." He narrowed his eyes yet again as he took in his nephew's demeanour inch by inch, "Or is it something that cannot be _seen_ carried out in dawn?"

Kíli held his ground and stared back confidently but under his uncle's gaze, he found the facade of his confidence quickly ebbing away, much like the real confidence did the moment he had seen Thorin right in front of him.

When he didn't answer, Thorin asked again and this time, with a more demanding tone, "Tell me, Kíli. Where exactly are you going?"

* * *

The map that was handed over to him was nothing out of the ordinary. It was simply a map of Arda and that too, one with no special marking or special symbol that could give away the _intended_ destination.

Thorin frowned at it and watched steadily as his nephew was forced to go into his quarters and take a little rest before his supposed errand.

What bothered him the most was the fact that this _errand_ was appointed to him by Thrór himself. The wise and strong king of Erebor who _somehow_ found it rational to entrust his great grandson to carry out his deed. Not his son, not Thorin, not even his eldest nephew Fíli. None but Kíli. Kíli, who was a mere dwarfling by their standards! A young adult, yes but a dwarfling nonetheless!

And then, the errand was set by Thrór...

He felt concern bubbling in his mind as his grip on the map tightened.

 _Just what exactly are you planning to do?_ He pondered as his brows knitted deeply in a grim frown. _Just what exactly do you need Kíli to do?_

It was the earliest hours of dawn when he came down to his youngest nephew's quarters. Kíli was already up. From what he could gather, the young one had been like that for the entire night.

Upon seeing the other, Kíli quickly stood up on his feet and straightened himself.

"Good morning, uncle!" He greeted Thorin with his usual enthusiasm. However, underneath it all, Thorin could easily see the impatience, the restlessness and the nervousness the other dwarf was trying so hard to conceal.

"Good morning, Kíli." He greeted back and said, "You still haven't told me who your errand concerns."

Kíli was approaching him when he suddenly paused at the blunt question thrown at him. "I can't say that."

Upon listening to that equally blunt answer, Thorin's suspicion grew even more. He tilted his head and threw a sceptical look at the other while not missing the tiniest of flinch Kíli almost gave away.

"Why not?" His voice was laced with wariness and a deep concern.

"Great grandfather asked me not to. I can't disobey him."

"Why _not_?" Thorin asked him in the same disbelieving tone as before, not at all accustomed to listen to Kíli talk about obedience.

"Because he's the king!" The tone Kíli used completely matched the shocked look on his face and somehow Thorin felt very unsettled all of a sudden.

"Indeed he is." Thorin's voice didn't hide the sarcasm any better than his facial features. For a while he said nothing. He desperately wanted to grasp at a clue. Anything that would help him figure out what was Thrór's motive?

He didn't miss the abrupt change in the old king's personality. He became gloomier, more obsessed with gems and jewels and if it was upto him, he'd probably barter away his own life just for the sake of those damned things. Thorin didn't miss the erratic look those once wise eyes held and the grimness that surrounded his whole aura as he flaunted off his wealth.

Thrór made it clear—his wealth was his alone. Others could only bare to feast with their eyes...if he had the mood to allow them.

All of a sudden, a wave of protectiveness swept over Thorin.

What if...what if that old fool was trying to barter off Kíli? It was no secret that the young one wanted to be acknowledged by the king! What if he was being used just to satisfy Thrór's greed? Clearly Kíli wasn't told much about Thrór's changing demeanour!

When it was apparent that the quietness was becoming extremely unusual, Kíli ventured and called out to his uncle, thus snapping him back to the present state of mind.

"Uncle...uncle, are you alright?"

Unsure of when he actually looked away to begin with, Thorin snapped his head back up at the other and looked with the sternest of gazes.

"If you want to be secretive, then I have no qualms about it. Not fully, anyway." He spoke as his gaze grew stronger. "However, you will not go alone."

Kíli was about to protest but was quickly cut short.

"Either I come with you or you don't go at all. You know me, Kíli. I take my words very seriously." He directed his stern focus on the other and when the younger dwarf finally gave in, he felt a tiny relief at the back of his mind.

"Then let me grab my supplies and we shall make way." Thorin said, quickly leaving to get his supplies.

He _prayed_ that this would not bring in any further trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Thrór, but let's face it. He did become greedy! And loony. Please review.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next installment. Thank you all who've reviewed/kudo'd.

The journey was relentless. Thorin and Kíli travelled through terrains, across rivers, through forests— stopping only when rest was needed in absolution. Throughout the journey, neither did Kíli speak of their destination nor did he say anything about the intent of reaching said destination.

Thorin didn't push him any further for details; for it was clear that Kíli would not utter a word related to it and even if he did, it was so vague that many conclusions could be derived from it.

Kíli was by the river, collecting fresh drinking water when Thorin approached him and asked in a very curious voice, "How long must we travel? It has been three days since we've been on the road."

Kíli looked up and threw a sporting smile as he replied, "Not much longer. We're almost there. We'll just have to cross the river and ride for half a day."

Thorin frowned, trying to calculate in his mind the exact whereabouts of this mystery location. He roughly gathered an idea and waited for Kíli's talkative nature to turn up.

When it didn't, Thorin's eyes narrowed in contemplation. Kíli was being extra cautious about this whole ordeal and that in itself spoke great volumes.

Still, he concealed a sigh and ventured, "Grandfather must be proud of you to entrust such a huge responsibility."

At those words, Thorin could clearly the light spreading to his nephew's face even though he tried very hard to conceal it.

Encouraged, he continued, "Makes me wonder how my nephew is quickly growing up to become a fine dwarf!"

"Oh, thank you Uncle!" Kíli replied, excitement brimming in his eyes. He smiled widely and spoke in a jovial tone, "I hope Great Grandfather sees me worthy! I am absolutely thrilled that he sees me fit to go with this!"

Thorin's smile faltered slightly at his nephew's naíveness. He patted Kíli's shoulder lovingly, much to the other's confusion and let out a sympathised upward twitch of his lips.

There was a reason why he and Dís had been stern about keeping him from interacting much with the king. After all, they were the only ones privy to the sight of Thrór's drastically changed personality.

Kíli, however, was naive but never ignorant. He did not miss the sudden change in mood of his uncle and asked, "Are you okay, Uncle?"

"I'm absolutely fine, Nephew." Thorin replied, sighing deeply and ruffling the young one's hair. He felt his heart tweak as a sudden surge of protectiveness engulfed him. He turned away from the other and made way for his pony as images of the king swam in his mind.

 _I swear you old nut,_  He thought frowning with annoyance,  _Should you cause any further difficulty, especially to Kíli, I'll personally send you and your old arse to the pits of Mordor._

* * *

The door to Thrór's chambers were heard closing, making the old king to look up with alertness at the invader of his privacy. He struggled to get a glimpse of who it might have been and he readied himself grabbing the hilt of his sword.

He seemed to soften the moment later as he recognized the other figure when it approached him.

"Are you sure that it is the real thing, father?" Asked the other who was none other than Thráin.

Thrór nodded as a slow smirk crept on his lips.

"My sources are never wrong." He said widening the smirk as amusement danced in his eyes. "It is the real thing. Of that, I'm certain."

Thráin seemed hesitant and for quite some time didn't seem to have any intention of leaving his father alone. That notion made Thrór irritated and he simply  _wished_ that he be left alone! He faced his son again and cocked an eyebrow, silently inquiring as to what else might be there for the other to still linger about.

Tháin caught the hint very well and on cue, spoke hesitantly, "How much do you trust him? Thorin's not in his room. He might very well interfere."

Thrór remained nonplussed. He chortled softly and his eyes twinkled brightly. He turned to fully face his son, the twinkle now gaining more and more brightness as he spoke in a low and eerie voice, "Let him. The young one craves approval. He will not betray."

"What if Thorin keeps him from bringing it back?"

The eeriness spread like an infestation all over the older dwarf's face. The glint in his eyes now danced erratically and the smirk extended further, rendering the king a look which was in no way resemblance to any form of sanity.

"He won't. We all succumb to greed."

* * *

Thorin stretched in full satisfaction, feeling each of his muscles relax and get unknotted after hours of journeying stiffly. Kíli was tending to the fire and being on a cliff, they sure had an advantage of a clear vantage point. Not that these areas were proving ti be dangerous, still one couldn't be too sure.

He crooned his neck and saw his nephew looking over at the map. He turned and faced the other, voicing the small echo he long had on his mind.

"This is no political agenda, is it?"

Kíli startled at the sudden end of the quietness that surrounded them. However, he quickly gathered himself and gazed at Thorin.

"What do you mean? It certainly is!" He said, hoping to put on a convincing voice at which he failed nonetheless.

Thorin made a face which clearly showed that he was not going to be made a joke of and at that, the younger dwarf retracted himself. Clearing his voice, he rephrased his answer, "Well, partially."

"Partially." Thorin repeated, staring sharply at the other, taking in every account of his nephew's demeanour and not missing the slight shift the other put up being under his scrutiny.

"Yes. Well...It's something we need to do and most likely, it won't harm us if we do it right." Kíli provided and as he explained, Thorin's confusion grew into a frown as his face grew tighter and tighter with growing anticipation.

"What have you gotten yourself into?" He finally asked, no longer able to hold back his concern for the young dwarf. "Kíli, whatever it is, coming from your great grandfather...I doubt it is anything but simple."

Kíli tilted his head in confusion, frowning slightly at Thorin's implication.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his face falling a little and it is then that Thorin wished the younger wouldn't expect so much of the king. He tried ignoring the sudden pang in his heart as he realized just how much Kíli had looked up to Thrór and just how badly Thrór was using him.

Kíli still awaited an answer. He kept on staring at his uncle with expecting eyes and suddenly, Thorin couldn't find it in himself to keep on looking back at the other. He swiftly tore his eyes away and stretched on the makeshift bed as he said with a soothing tone, "Let's just go get some rest. I'm sure we'll have a tough journey ahead tomorrow. Though...it'd be nice to know where we're headed."

With that, he turned his back and lay quiet. But he did not sleep. His eyes remained open and guilt poured in them just as he realized how much Thrór was truly affecting them all.

Not only did his sudden uncharacteristic behaviour affect his ability of decision making but also it diverted the king away from objectives which were  _right._

However, what truly saddened Thorin was the very fact that his grandfather was looked up to and admired blindly by someone who— amongst all of them— had a very impressionable mind.

And for that, he was worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I realize it might be getting boring but this is coming out to be a pretty slow build and I am waiting for that point to come when all the goodness starts. If you guys have any suggestions, do let me know! Please review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch out for a surprise! ;)

Thorin's eyes snapped open because of an unexplained uneasiness he felt growing in him. He sat up with great alertness and looked around. His heart sank as panicked eyes fell upon the bedding next to him.

Kíli wasn't there.

He quickly got up on his feet and looked around.

"Kíli!" he called out for his nephew but he got back no response. Panicked, he grabbed his sword and ventured towards the border of bushes, hoping against hope that he'd find his nephew there.

However, he had no such luck.

"Kíli, where are you?" He called out again, his voice now dripping with fear and worry as he came back to the fire again looked around with extreme franticness.

He tried using all of his senses. His ears were sharp with alarm as he kept them perked up in case any sound entered, leading him to the other.

But all that was around him were sounds of crickets and rustling of dry leaves—which at another time would give him tremendous relief to know that there was no one else in that area.

Ironically, this very fact now caused him dread.

There  _was_ no one else in that vicinity. Thorin was all alone. Helplessness took over him as he sat heavily on the ground with a groan. Suddenly, his temples began to hurt and the fear in his chest swirled faster and faster as his mind wandered to unchartered territory.

What if Kíli had gone to find some water and had been attacked? What if he fell and hurt himself? What if he got lost?

He sighed and shook his head vehemently, trying to push away those negative thoughts.

No, his nephew was strong and had a better sense of direction than him. He wouldn't get lost and he was more than capable of protecting himself.

He stood up, eyes burning with determination. He wouldn't let anything happen to the young one. That was why he came in the first place! What good would it do to either of them if Thorin just sat there being a complete cynic?

He tightened his grip on the sword and decided to start again.

He again looked about him and at the corner of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of a cave— something that he missed entirely in his frazzled state.

Relief washed over him as he now took in other possibilities. The cave was not too far from where he was and Kíli's supplies were still there. So there was a high chance of finding him in that cave. And there was also a chance of knowing exactly what Thrór's intent was.

With a new found resolution, Thorin now began walking towards it.

"Kíli?" Cautiously, Thorin called out at the mouth of that cave. His weapon was firm in his hands, ready to strike down whatever foe he might expect. However, from the looks of it, the cave was abandoned and had been so for quite a while.

"Kíli? Mahal be damned, where are you lad? Answer me!"

His frown grew as eyes remained fixed ahead of him, sharp with focus as he took cautionary steps inside.

He was about to call out again when suddenly, shuffling sounds of feet entered his ears. His eyes narrowed automatically as his hands raised the weapon by reflex, his whole body going into a defensive position.

The sounds were louder and were approaching right for him. Thorin breathed in and held his ground, crouching to launch an attack when all of a sudden, he was whizzed past by a lighter and shorter body with all the franticness Arda had to offer.

Thorin barely had time to catch the form and was relieved to see it was him who he'd been searching for the whole time. However, his respite was shattered ever so quickly as another low and rumbling sound made its way into his ears.

He stepped away from the cave and came to its opening and as he lifted his neck to get a view of any form of discrepancy, what he saw made him grow stiff with pure terror as all the colours from his face quickly drained away.

They were attacked alright. But not by any enemy which was mortal or could be struck down with a sword. Had they been under those categories, Thorin would still have the confidence of effectively wielding his sword.

This enemy was far more cruel and unforgiving and not even among the living or even the dead!

He was quickly snapped back into attention as he felt a tug at his arm. He looked at Kíli who was visibly shaken and was trying his best to drag the other away.

"Run Uncle, run!" He shouted at the top of his lungs barely managing to say the following word.

"Rockslide!"

* * *

The first thing he noticed was an unbelievable pain in his temples. He saw nothing but darkness all around him but it was only until Thorin realized that he had his eyes closed.

A stiff groan escaped his lips as he tried to turn over to his side. He couldn't conceal a flinch when a dull pain throbbed at his left leg.

 _Where am I?_  He vaguely wondered as quiet murmurs echoed in his ears. As he turned around, he felt the warm sensation of something soft and soothing against his side and leg which caused his frown to deepen further.

_Where in Arda am I?_

The last thing he remembered was sliding precariously against an edge with Kíli as rocks showered all around them.

He groaned and let himself indulge in the soft sensation underneath him for a moment, the murmurs still echoing about him—albeit muffled.

_It's nice._

He smiled softly, wondering how much Kíli would be enjoying this. He always was a pampered one.

_Wait. Kíli!_

His eyes snapped open as the image of the younger dwarf flashed in his mind. He had almost forgotten about him! His heart raced with trepidation as he sat up with much haste, eyes widening being filled with fear and concern.

Where was he? Was he injured?

He felt his breath hitch as he looked around and as he realized that he was no longer at their camp, he could all but choke.

He let out a shuddered breath as he took in the extremely foreign surroundings. It was a room. No, a tent but a much lavish tent and the soft sensation he felt was that f a proper bedding—undoubtedly belonging to a very rich and powerful nobleman.

"Kíli!" He yelled out, flinching in pain as he abruptly stood up. His mind raced with all sorts of worries. When no answer came, he ignored his pain and was about to venture out when suddenly he was stopped by a warm hand on his shoulder.

It has slender and was glowing softly and while he looked down at it, Thorin couldn't help but feel a calmness radiating within him all of a sudden.

His breath slowed down and slowly he lifted his eyes to meet the person in front of him.

"Calm down, you're safe now." The person spoke, his icy blue eyes smiling down at the other as a soothing expression was painted on his face. "He is fine."

Thorin's eyes widened much like before as they lay upon someone whom he had least expected to see.

He felt his lungs out of wind all of a sudden as the fullness of shock and surprise set in.

Honestly, this was far from what he had expected to see.

"Thranduil." He breathed out. Upon hearing his name, the elven king smiled softly.

"Nice to see you too _,"_  Thranduil greeted, bending down to place a soft kiss on the other's forehead. " _Melleth nîn."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've mentioned in my other fic, because of exams (and me being lazy and piling everything up until the last moment), updates will be a little slow for a couple of weeks.
> 
> As always, feedback is lovely. Feedback makes an author discard lethargy. Please review~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Still not mine.
> 
> AN: I'm back! :D Thank you everybody who've supported me.

Thranduil smiled down at the price of Erebor, taking in and fully enjoying his wide eyes and gaping mouth as Thorin began absorbing the shock and awe of this whole predicament. After all, not every day would one expect to find amidst the elven company...that too, away from Mirkwood.

"Come now,  _meleth nin._ I don't believe I'm such so much out of the ordinary for you to stare at me like that." He said tauntingly, gently guiding Thorin back to his bed.

"No, but  _you_  out of Mirkwood amidst this... _desolation_ is surely one!" Thorin replied, trying to shake off the initial shock. He protested gently as a slender hand pushed him back on the soft cushions. He tried smacking a hand away as he said ruefully, "Now what do you think you're doing? And where's my nephew?"

Thranduil's smile widened at that as he pushed Thorin further, allowing himself to lean in over the dwarf's face so that his hair gently tickled the other's cheeks.

"Oh I think he is well entertained." His voice chimed with a playful melody and Thorin could all but keep himself composed as the rich and very familiar scent of trees and flowers entered his nostrils.

"With who?" He tried regaining his ground but failed badly as he felt soft lips tracing kisses over his cheeks and the crook of his neck, to which Thorin responded by stretching himself to expose more of that area.

"With good company." Thranduil's voice was rasped and breezed coolly into the other's ears as the elf advanced to claim his mouth.

Thorin breathed in deeply, the rich and beautiful scent lifting him up in more ways than one. He dipped the other's head and caressed his long and silky hair, while leaning in to gain control over the kiss.

Thranduil  _purred_ in pleasure, opening more of his mouth as Thorin's tongue caressed and teased every corner of his own. A tiny gasp escaped his lips and his legs parted ever so slightly as the shorter of the two made himself draw closer and deepen the kiss, complimenting it with a cheeky caress of Thranduil's smooth skin from under his tunic.

Thranduil responded by entwining his fingers in Thorin's traces as he gently brushed his scalp. His eyes had fluttered shut the minute their mouths met and he clearly enjoyed the other's rough and harsh taste as opposed to the sweetness of his own which Thorin was getting a taste of.

However, Thorin soon pulled away giving Thranduil a peck before sitting up straighter. He paused, trying to regain his breath and when he did, he stated, "Not that I mind the welcome but I seem to notice that the king of the Woodland realm didn't answer my question."

"Answer what?" Thranduil replied, the longing still quite visible in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

At that, Thranduil's lips curled upwards. He lifted his chin and fixed his eyes at Thorin's face, getting a good look at the other as he spoke in a proud voice, "Ah! Then the king of Woodland realm apologizes to the prince under the mountain. It is the usual time of the year when we engage ourselves into a little trip where we go hunting."

"Hunting?" Thorin sounded astonished and truthfully, he was. "I didn't think of you people as a type to hunt! You all seem to give off the message 'animals are our friends and meat is forbidden in our diet'!"

At that, Thranduil's eyes lit up in merriment as the smile on his lips widened even further.

"Then you are quite prejudiced Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór!" The elven king replied in an equally astonished voice which was filled with mirth—the same which twinkled in his bright eyes as he leaned down and brushed his lips against Thorin's forehead.

Thorin huffed slightly and turned his head away as he appeared to be crossed at the rude allegation.

"Prejudiced?" He crossed his arms and looked sharply up at the other, "You call me prejudiced when it is  _you_ who asked me if I too had my own replica of the Arkenstone as my father?"

"How could I  _not_  ask? Your grandfather has the original and your father too bears a replica of it! As does your father's throne and his foot rest!"

"Because you of all people should know I am not anything like them!" Thorin defended himself, rolling his eyes at the elf's ignorance.

Thranduil too had a similar reaction as he rolled his own eyes and shook his head, only to throw an evident expression at Thorin as he spoke, "It is why we get along so  _intimately._ "

Upon hearing that, Thorin's lips automatically twitched into a smirk while shrugging a little, as he said almost in an arrogant wave, "Give me some credit! It was already very hard to keep you quiet right under their noses."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes as traces of mischief were being reflected at his gaze and the smirk he now held on his face.

"And it was an effort well spent." He replied, his gaze becoming sharper and more focused and directed at the other as the mischief now radiated from all of his facial features.

"Indeed." Thorin returned the gesture with an arrogance crossing his face when all of a sudden his eyes widened as it seemed that his mind had snapped back to the main purpose he'd have been trying to grasp all along.

"But where is Kíli? Is he alright?" He stood up hurriedly, flinching as the knotted muscles throbbed in pain.

He heard Thranduil swear in his native tongue, hurriedly catching him and putting him back to bed.

"I told you,  _meleth_!" He scolded him harshly which was not at all unusual for him to do when it came to him dealing with Thorin and his stubbornness. "He is fine. Currently attending to our feast and engaging himself quite well."

Thorin relaxed slightly at that though he maintained a sceptical look about him. He was about to say something else to the elf when suddenly, he heard the curtains to his tent being flapped aside followed by a sound of heavy footsteps.

"I'm in  _Valinor_  Uncle! There are quite a few ladies who aren't half bad looking!"

Both of them jerked in surprise at the sound of a young and refreshing voice with excited utterances. They looked up and there stood Kíli with minor bruising and cuts and a very bright smile on his lips.

"In fact, that she-elf guard who imprisoned me has a set of nice looking  _finers_  and a finer looking  _nices_." Kíli said, wiggling his eyebrows, "And though not as hairy as our women, the hair she has on head compensates for all the others. In fact, I say you too should go for the—uh..." He faltered abruptly when his eyes fell on the company. Soon he found himself staring at the elven king in great confusion, who was  _inches_  away from his uncle and too close to his personal space.

Thorin saw the look of confusion etched across his nephew's face and he tried his best stifling a groan he felt was rising up his throat.

"Uh...um...who're you?" He asked and it was then that Thorin released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding a long time. Thank Mahal, their secret was safe.

"Oh Kíli!" He began but he was cut off by Thranduil himself, who rose up and nodded graciously at the youngest of them all.

"I am Thranduil, king of Mirkwood and apparently your saviour young one." He introduced himself with a very regal air. "I was just here to say how your uncle was doing after we found two of you unconscious after that little rockslide we had heard."

Thorin was grateful that his lover had deflated an otherwise precarious situation. Kíli was young but he was anything but a fool. When the other looked past his lover and at him, he nodded in approval and mouthed 'courtesy' to which Kíli complied.

He nodded courteously in response and introduced himself back at which Thranduil seemed pleased.

"Well, I had better go and attend to the feast." He had declared after a while of uneasy silence, nodding at Thorin as he started to walk out of that tent. As he was on his way, he glanced at the others over his shoulders and mentioned, "Please. Do join us."

And if it was anyone other than Thorin Oakenshield, then he'd surely miss the prolonged stare directed at him—for just a fraction of a second longer—which was full of intensity and something  _more_ than just longing.

Kíli watched the retreating back of the elven king and his eyes narrowed very slightly with each connection his brain was trying to make at the oddity of the circumstances.

He was soon pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his uncle calling him.

"What was that, Uncle? I didn't quite catch you." He didn't miss the concerned gaze he received from the older dwarf but he appeared to be calm and as much of his usual self as he could muster.

"I said," Thorin repeated in a firmer voice, "You still haven't told me why you had gone off into that cave. That too, at night and without  _me_."

Thorin was focusing all of his attention on him now and the look he threw was quite intimidating. In fact, it was already making Kíli to work hard to control himself from shifting and keeping his calm. He met his uncle's gaze confidently as he replied in a similar tone, "I was just exploring, Uncle. Nothing more."

He breathed in and straightened himself.

Thorin's eyes, however, narrowed at his response as the older dwarf didn't seem to believe a single word that Kíli had provided.

"Exploring." He stated, sounding not too pleased, "In the middle of the night? Even endangering yourself by getting squashed under a pile of rocks? Kíli what are you upto?"

Thorin's eyes flashed as he no longer was able to suppress the anger he felt. "It was so reckless of you and had it not been for pure luck, Mahal knows what would've happened to us. What would've happened to  _you_!"

Kíli sighed and bit his lips as guilt had encroached his mind and heart. There was no excuse on his part. He had been reckless but he certainly didn't want to put his uncle in line of danger! That was why he went up alone to begin with! That was why he ventured alone from the start! That and the reminder of the trust Thrór had placed  _exclusively_ on him. He didn't want to let down the king!

_I don't want to let down Uncle either._

He looked up yet again as Thorin continued to speak, his voice rising with each passing moment and his face showing signs of growing trepidation.

"What would I say to Dís should anything ever happen to you? Did you think of that? How could I ever face  _anyone_?"

Thorin's eyes were wide and brimming with concern and an unknown fear. Kíli very well understood that it took his uncle great amount of restrain not to just lunge towards him and shake him as he panicked. Thorin had always been overprotective of him and truly, it pained him to see such anguish on his uncle's face.

"Uncle...I—"

He started but was cut off quickly by the other.

"I do not know what Thrór wants of you and your reasons to keep his intention a secret...but Kíli..." The dwarf prince paused, frowning hard as he tried to gather his bearings, "Whatever it is, you can trust me! I'll help you through it but I can't let you go ahead so blindly. Do you understand me?"

The younger dwarf sighed again, finding it so hard all of a sudden just to even look at the other.

"Do you understand me?"

He heard Thorin speak again, this time more insisting than before. It was then that he had made a decision.

He breathed in a few times more before he finally daunted to look up.

"Yes Uncle. I trust you." He said, pausing for a moment to lick his lips before he went on, "I...I have something to show you."

He paused again, the wild drumming of his heart now increasing as he felt the other's intense and curious stare falling on him.

He gulped and steadied himself before slowly reaching for his tunic, pulling out a small pouch.

"What is that?" Thorin asked, baffled by the sight of such a thing. Thousands of question was sure to bubble in his mind, of that Kíli was sure. Instead of going into the excruciatingly lengthy detail of it all, he decided it would be best just to show him.

He began untying the string that closed the mouth of the pouch and when it was undone, he put his hand in and looked about. When he was absolutely sure that no one was intruding, he slowly and delicately pulled out the object within and held it out for the other to see.

Thorin's eyes broadened as tidal waves of shock, surprise, awe and a damning numbness crashed against him. He stared at the thing with his mouth open ajar, his lips quivering with words which quickly dissolved away the moment they were being formed.

There in Kíli's hand was something that until then was thought not to exist in reality. Its brightness was so gorgeous and crafted so delicately brilliant as if thousands of stars shone down upon them and graced them with white beams of pure unearthly light.

As the shock slowly wore away, it was replaced immediately by anticipation and a great sense of fear. Thorin's breath came out extremely shaken much like his own demeanour and state of mind.

He felt his mouth dry as he finally made connection of every single event that led him to be with his nephew.

Minutes seemed like hours before he finally regained his voice. His mind was still baffled and finally, after a long while the only coherent words that seemed to form in his mind were exclaimed with a shuddering and windless voice.

"Oh Kíli. What have you done?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you get a glimpse of what more is going to come. XD Please review.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: If I had owned them, then the movies or the books would be CENSORED from the children. XD
> 
> Warning: Most of this chapter. *ahem*smut*ahem* Or smuttish.
> 
> AN: Now we are TOTALLY getting somewhere. Yeah! We've reached the proper portion of this fic. So excited! So, let's see how this rolls now.
> 
> Thank you everyone who've supported. As always, it means a lot.

Thorin was horrified. As he looked down at the glittering piece— worth million drops of blood—he couldn't help but be frigid at the pure beauty of it.

What Kíli had in his arms was not any piece of valuable rock. It was one which surpassed all the others by insurmountable magnitudes! It was what civilizations had yearned and fought for centuries.

The  _Ered en Calad._ The Mountain of Light.

Once thought to be fabled but of course, it was clearly not so.

His mouth hung ajar as his eyes shone brilliantly from the light being reflected off the beautiful jewel. Now Thorin could understand why it had roused madness.

His ears perked up as he suddenly heard footsteps outside and just as he did, he broke out of his trance and scuffled to cover it up in the pouch.

"Hide it." He said sternly, looking straight into his nephew's eyes which made it abundantly clear that they'd have a long chat over this.

Kíli threw him a questionable glance in return. However, he said nothing and did as he was told.

The muffled noises of hunters' cheers echoed all over the woods and dimmed away successively and rapidly as Thorin's hastened pace put him well past the elves' views.

He could feel beads of cold sweat shimmering his whole body as he thought the mere possibilities of the whole situation. But the new revelation dd nothing to soothe him. Instead, all it did was rouse up his disgust.

 _Is this what you had in mind, you old fool?_ He sneered vehemently, his brows furrowing to infinite depths.  _Have you no sense other than a dubious one to satisfy your greed?_

Thrór clearly had gone mad! His gold sickness now claimed his sanity.

And to play with a young one's feelings? This was a whole new level of lowliness Thorin could've  _ever_  hoped to associate with his grandfather! That man was prepared to send Kíli alone. He wouldn't even care if the young dwarf lived or died so long as his desired object was handed to him!

His face twisted in utter disgust. To think they were related!

However he quickly shrugged off his all such thoughts and focused purely on one task.

_Stay calm. Get out fast._

Otherwise, they'd have to be responsible for starting yet another feud on top of an already existing one. And with Thranduil, he couldn't afford that.

With a burning determination, he shoved his hands deep inside his pockets and quickened his stride.

* * *

Rustling sounds entered his delicately sharp ears and Thranduil was experienced enough to know that any sound coming from such a camouflaged wood was never to be taken lightly.

The sound wasn't consistent. Instead, it was more of a cautious nature which made the elven king suspicious. Quietly he slipped away from the calming spot he'd been standing and decided to weed out any threat that could linger about.

He smoothly headed in that direction, careful of being as silent as possible—and thanks to his elven grace— it was a feat he had achieved quite easily.

Face focused and eyes narrowed, he eased his breathing as he quickly closed the distance between him and the source of that noise.

All of a sudden, some spluttering sound was made and followed by some kind of a gasp. It was all it took for Thranduil to be more alert as he approached the spot, hand placed on the hilt of his sword.

He gritted his teeth as the spluttering sound gradually became louder with each step he took. His eyes were were sharply focused and on the lookout for any surprise attack that could make its way.

A step and another...

His hands slowly unsheathed his sword and he brought it up, ready to strike down on the enemy.

Another...another...and...Now!

"WHOA! Hold on, man!"

The scream had surely startled the stars out of Thranduil! He found himself face to face with none other than Thorin Oakenshield, wide eyed, hysterical and with his pants down in the second most private moment.

"Thorin!" He breathed out—in surprise and in extreme relief—as he put his sword down. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you MEAN what I am doing? What are YOU doing?" Thorin sounded horrified as he took in the huge sword that Thranduil was about to wield on  _him_!

At that Thranduil's own facial expressions changed to shock and extreme fluster as he now found it impossible to bring his eyes to normal size and close his mouth that was hanging wide open.

"Oh, I—" he fumbled with words, his elegant mask already broken by the dark shade of crimson marring his cheeks while he still tried taking in the most humiliating moment he'd have faced in eons.

Thorin's case was far worse.

"Can't a dwarf _urinate_ in peace nowadays without some lecher trying to cut his  _self_ off?" He quickly tugged at his pants and covered his  _dignity._  "And stop staring, for Mahal's sake! You have one TOO, you know!"

"Of course!" Thranduil replied, sheathing his sword as most of his composure now returned back to him. "You'd know."

His lips then twitched slightly before extending to a fully arrogant smirk as he said in an equally playful tone, "Come now,  _meleth._ It's not like I haven't seen anything before."

"Not like THIS!" Thorin retorted back, shooting a sharp glare at the taller figure.

At that, Thranduil laughed out heartily and shook his head. Before Thorin could give out any more form of retort, he cupped the other's scruffy face and chastely placed a quick kiss on Thorin's lips.

Thorin visibly relaxed under the soft feeling of other's lips pressed on his and deflated just as much when Thranduil pulled away.

"Is this enough for compensation?" Thranduil teased, purring pleasurably as his eyes reflected the heated inner stirrings he was now beginning to feel.

Thorin smirked in response.

"Not even close,  _elven king_." He purred back before grabbing a hold on Thranduil's wrist and dipping him while claiming his mouth.

Thranduil let out a gasp, being taken by surprise and his eyes widened the moment after he felt those familiar lips being pressed on his. As Thorin gently suckled and licked the brim of his lips, Thranduil couldn't help but let his eyes slip shut while he parted his mouth.

He laughed into the kiss when he felt the tingling sensation of the dwarf's tongue clashing against that of his own as Thorin comfortably gained dominance.

Thorin's lips rolled up and down and his tongue slid very easily, determined to merge it with Thranduil's tongue while his hands, which were supporting the taller king, gently coerced him till he was on the forest floor.

As their kiss deepened, Thranduil let his arms roam all over the stout form of Thorin's back, caressing every bit of his sculpted back, barely suppressing a pleasing shudder when he felt something hard pressed between his legs.

Their lungs burned as did the lust in their hearts.

It was quite clear Thorin wanted to go all the way and was in no mood to leave the job partially done—especially since they'd met after so long...and in between such _fuelling_ circumstances.

When air was an absolute necessity, they both pulled apart from the kiss. Lust shining brightly in his eyes, Thranduil looked up and felt his innards being swept away by a storm as he caught the same burning desire in Thorin's determined orbs.

"Here?" He asked in a breathless voice.

"Here," came Thorin's reply, as he started undoing Thranduil's dress while Thranduil impatiently fumbled with his clothes.

What lay before him was nothing short of pure beauty. Over his elegant robes, sprawling all over the ground, Thranduil's flawless pallid skin seemed to  _shine_ under the moonlight as he was covered in a light sheet of sweat.

Thorin's breathing got erratic as he let his mouth trace the outline from Thranduil's neck, down to his sternum and over his chest—where it stopped to tease the hardened pink flesh by a gentle suck with his mouth.

In response, Thranduil's body arched into his own as slender fingers caressed his face and tangled themselves in the other's knots, tugging them hard when Thorin resorted to the nasty trick of suckling.

The tug enticed Thorin as he ground himself against the other, letting his hardened  _self_  be pressed against the elf's torso which increased the cyclone of lust he felt within him.

Thranduil let out a pleasurable moan as he arched up yet again, drawing Thorin into a very hard and callous kiss.

Thorin broke free and let his mouth trail off to the side of the elf's cheeks, settling on his ear and suck its tip.

He knew what Thranduil's sensitive points were and this just happened to be one of them.

Just as he predicted, Thranduil bit back another gasp while he too suckled on Thorin's pulse, teasing it— _taunting_  it with his teeth before trailing nips all over his neck.

In response, Thorin's erection grew harder and harder and as he pressed more and more against Thranduil, he felt aroused. He felt the elf growing stiff as well, biting back whimpers and moans that dared to leave his delicious lips.

Breathing hard, he had paused momentarily catching Thranduil's eyes who clearly admonished him for even wanting to stop. Getting the silent approval, Thorin took hold of those beautiful long limbs and readjusted himself. Guiding them to his waist, he let Thranduil wrap them around it while he prepared his lover by slowly sliding in one finger.

He heard Thranduil hiss slightly and felt him bucking up.

"I'm sorry. I don't have anything to  _apply._ " He said apologetically and laughed as he felt Thranduil's swat on his back.

"I d-don't...mi-ind." Thranduil somehow managed to throw out a reply, overwhelmed with lush and ecstasy.

Thorin nodded and slid in his other finger just as slowly and started stretching the elven king. He smiled to himself at the relative ease of it all; on account of those many nights not too long ago when they'd been engaged in the same activity while Thranduil visited to pay his respects to Thrór before things got soured.

Right there in Erebor.  _Right_ under his grandfather's nose.

Another finger in and when Thranduil was stretched enough and prepared enough, Thorin guided his member to its destination, slowly pushing it in and clenching his eyes shut as waves of pleasure rolled all over his body and mind.

With every inch he penetrated, he felt Thranduil arching more towards him and his nails digging into the skin of his back as the elven king laughed and gasped in pure bliss— one he clearly longed for quite some time now.

"Faster!" He said in between gasps and kisses that Thorin showered on him, "Faster  _meleth_!"

Thorin took his time and when he was completely buried within Thranduil, he felt another swat from the impatient king.

"Don't t-tease me!" Thranduil hissed purring immediately when Thorin suckled the croon of his neck.

"Don't  _tease_ me!" He said again and it was then that Thorin decided to be merciful.

He rocked back and forth, feeling enormously overwhelmed when Thranduil gyrated his hips in the same rhythm.

Thranduil grew stiffer and stiffer and was at the brink of coming with each deep thrust that ghosted very close to his pleasure spot.

"Don't  _tease_ me!" He swatted again and breathed heavily as his body gave off heat and radiated elation.

"Stop  _hitting_!" Thorin finally complained as he hastened his thrust. It seemed he had hit that sweet spot as it was at that particular thrust that Thranduil stifled a mewl and moaned heavily in pure delight while streams of white spilled all over the lower half of his torso.

Moments later, Thorin too came and he felt an electrifying jolt running down his spine as he filled every inch of space within Thranduil.

An absolute sense of elation filled him as relief poured from his head. Thorin was finally sated.

He felt the weariness now that he had calmed down considerably. Gently pulling himself away from the other, he placed a quick kiss on the elf's lips and dropped heavily beside him—both breathing loud and erratically while the sense of complete exultation overtook them.

"That," Thorin finally spoke when he regained enough air, "was in pending for so long."

Thranduil smiled and lightly caressed the other's locks as he breathed out, "And clearly you missed me."

"You wish." Thorin rolled his eyes and laughed as he was gently swatted at again before drawing his lover closer.

As night would give way to dawn, both would be seen lying together wrapped in each other's arms. They'd be completely lulled into a sweet sleep, well deserved after the passionate night they would have shared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is amazing how they didn't get bitten by ants! It is amazing if they did and didn't notice! XD Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine. Except you know, the plot.
> 
> AN: Here's the next installment~ thank you all for your wonderful support.

A commotion startled the dwarf prince out of his sleep. He looked around and found that he was still in the forest, and still in a deductable position. But that wasn't the only thing that came to his view. He looked to his side and found the spot to be empty.

That very spot where hours ago, he had finally reunited with his lover...

Millions of possible explanation came racing inside his mind but most of them he found to be utterly unfavourable. It was not like Thranduil to just be up and gone! They had shared bed so many times and never had the elven king left his side without a ghost of a whisper.

The ruckus now became louder. It sounded extremely erratic and heated. It died down for one second before sharply blowing up again.

_What has happened?_

Thorin found himself wondering. The night before, those strange creatures were singing and eating. So why did they make such a ghastly noise? Was it because of  _this_ that Thranduil had to go?

He looked still and slowly let a frown cross his temples. All of a sudden, he felt his chest constricting out of pure anxiety—the source of which he had the privilege to see  _just_ the night before. However, why it rushed to him  _now_ was a matter of grave concern.

Thorin quickly rose up to his feet and made himself decent before heading towards the tent.

All along the way, he  _prayed_ that nothing rash had taken place.

* * *

"Uncle! Where were you?" The youthful voice of Kíli was ready to greet the older dwarf with a huge smile plastered to his face, which faltered slightly at the dishevelled sight of the other.

When Thorin squint his eyes in reply, it was then that Kíli noticed the leaves and twigs attached to the other's clothing and he just couldn't find it in him to resist the quirk of his brow which was extremely dubious.

"I was worried about you." He said, still keeping his facial expression intact. "You know...since..."

Thorin rolled his eyes as a response and quickly waved Kíli to keep his voice down.

"I'm fine. But whatever is that noise out there? What happened?"

Kíli frowned seeing Thorin so worked up. He didn't try and soothe his uncle. It'd be a futile attempt but he did keep his voice calm and replied, "They caught a deer."

"A deer?" Thorin came off admonished, but Kíli couldn't blame him. The elves were strange ad understanding them was something even the Valar had forsaken.

"Yes, some bloke caught a deer and half of them are arguing about taking of life for pleasure is a sin."

Thorin's eyes narrowed further as he observed his nephew closely and admittedly, even though Kíli was quite used to this scrutinising glare, he couldn't really help but shift on his feet.

"How are you able to understand them?" Thorin asked after a long while, amusement unhidden in his voice.

At that, the younger dwarf simply shrugged and replied in a very obvious tone, "I...saw and I asked that King of theirs."

It was now Kíli's turn to be amused when he barely caught the slight perking up that Thorin tried hard to conceal at the mention of the elven king.

When the other gave a thoughtful look, Kíli approached him with a smirk of his own and said, "A good catch that one, eh?"

However, he quickly stepped back and lowered his head when that very comment managed to twist Thorin's expression into something closely resembling  _lividness._

It took all but a second for Thorin to relax and calm down. As he looked back at his nephew, the younger of the two noticed the air of seriousness that engulfed the other and became serious himself.

"Listen Kíli." Thorin said in a hushed tone, careful to speak only Khuzdul as he nodded his nephew to come closer.

Kíli did as was told and waited for Thorin to elaborate.

"We cannot stay here any longer. It is not safe and I fear what motive Thrór might've had would entirely jeopardise any form of negotiations in future." He directed a steely gaze at the other as he went on, "It is in our best interest to leave today and it is  _your_ best interest to do exactly as I tell you to."

"But I won't be pardoned for disobeying the king." Kíli replied, suppressing the revolutionary tendency the young one had. He understood what Thorin was asking of him but that'd mean he had failed his task. The task Thrór had entrusted upon  _him._

He couldn't go back empty handed...he certainly couldn't bear the disdain Thrór would hold against him.

Thorin shook his head and spoke, "You won't be pardoned for fuelling a riot."

Perhaps he had seen the expression on Kíli's face or perhaps he simply knew him all too well—whatever it was, Thorin intercepted Kíli's trail of thought  _perfectly._

His glare softened and he gently patted the other's back as he said with warmth in his voice, "Oh Kíli. I understand why you must feel it is your responsibilityor why you must complete it but you  _must_ understand. Thrór...he's not what he used to be. He's become alien. A person who puts greed before all else and I'm afraid that his obsession with that jewel has clouded his judgement."

"No, that's not true. He's senile but definitely not out of his mind! I met him." Kíli defended with all he had but found his confidence rapidly dwindling as he recalled the wild look he had seen in his great grandfather's eyes.

"He is as mindful as  _you_ are with this blasted quest!" Thorin's voice rose slightly when Kíli consistently decided to keep up his naïve ideologies.

Kíli could see how frustrated his uncle had become while he tried explaining but the truth of the matter was, after all these years of him being born, Kili was finally acknowledged! How could he throw that away now that he finally had a chance to make his great grandfather proud?

Soon after Thorin calmed himself down again and tried once more, "Can't you see? He used you. That is why he kept you from telling me! By Mahal had I not been awake that day, I'd never have known!"

"Maybe he kept it from you because he knew you'd worry too much?" Kíli responded back with foundation in his voice. He still refused to see Thorin's point of view, even though it was quickly becoming apparent that Thorin's assumptions had more concrete base than his own.

"Or because he feared I'd knock some sense into you." Thorin replied sharply, the frustration and worry levelling back up in his tone.

Kíli was about to respond when Thorin hushed him abruptly.

"There's footsteps, you fool!" e admonished the younger one when he was about to ask the cause of Thorin's actions.

Seconds later, both swiftly spun on their heels when they heard the flap of their tent being opened, causing them to glare at the person who dared to interrupt their argument

Both quickly regained their composure immediately when they actually saw who it was that had made the intrusion.

"We'll be having a feast now." It was Thranduil, who coolly looked at both of them and said in an equally cool voice. He acknowledged Thorin with a simple nod and now Kíli could properly see what had attracted his uncle towards the other. Thranduil was regal. And he haid a lazy sensuality hidden behind his eerie. demeanour.

Thranduil let his eyes fall on the youngest member and considered him for a while. Honestly, if Kíli had thought Thorin's gaze was intimidating, he now stood corrected. The elf said nothing to him. He simply  _observed_ and if not for the heat of the moment, Kíli would definitely turn into a flustered blob.

Before it would become a very unpleasant string of moments, Thranduil averted his gaze and left the two of them alone.

However, before he could fully turn away, his icy blue eyes lingered on Thorin for just a while longer and he didn't know about his uncle but Kíli was sure that he felt eerie chills just by looking at Thranduil's eyes.

And as for Thorin...

Thorin looked mesmerised moments after Thranduil had left before suddenly snapping back to his senses and turning to face the other.

"After the feast," he said, determination exuding from his eyes, "we  _leave._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally irrelevant to this fic but I just HAVE to get it out of my system: Who do you think could've been Thranduil's best bud? For Thorin, it can be Balin I think. But Thrandy? O.o
> 
> What do you think so far? I mean about the fic. Mostly about the fic. And a little about that silly question. OK, I am going to shut up now. Please review.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't say much here but there's a little treat for you guys. ;) Watch out. It's very subtle. Those who've been following 'The Investment', you guys can probably guess what and...well...let's just see, it's me relaxing.
> 
> To those who've reviewed/kudo'd- I really appreciate it. Thank you! :)

Thranduil became extremely alarmed when he felt a strong arm grab his wrist. He was about to depose of that  _threat_ but barely had a chance to as he was pressed against a tree and was urged to slide down.

He did exactly that and didn't even try and hide the mirth shinning in his eyes as his  _attacker_ crashed their lips together.

Thranduil responded well to the kiss and was left thoroughly disappointed when Thorin decided to pull away in the nick of time.

Blue eyes showered displeasure, his slightly swollen lips forming a pout as he regarded the other's smug form.

As if to answer his silent question, Thorin smirked and said, "For not waking me up."

At that, Thranduil's glare melted away to make way for pure haughtiness and pride—two qualities he knew Thorin found irresistible in him—as he slowly replied in a not-so-humble tone, "For not leaving me sore."

He smirked at Thorin for seemingly huffing at that kind of response.

"For threatening me in the middle of my  _moment._ " The dwarf king retorted back, glaring sharply at the other who now couldn't control the laughter spilling out of him.

Thranduil's smile widened as he gently teased Thorin's beard with his fingers before he drew closer to the other and whispered with utmost sensuality, "For taking me by surprise."

He smirked as he felt Thorin shudder at the touch of his breath. It was his own turn to suppress a pleasurable moan as Thorin's large hands began rubbing his inner thigh.

"For doing  _this_ to me." The dwarf prince said, placing himself on Thranduil's lap, nipping the elf's ears.

Thranduil's eyes clouded with lust yet again as he drew in a sharp breath and stretched his legs. He tugged at Thorin's hair and said in a raspy voice, "For  _teasing_ me!"

Thorin smirked and let his nips be showered down Thranduil's neck and collar before claiming his lips.

Thranduil let an arm fall beside him and clenched a fistful of grass as enticement rippled throughout his body.

Thorin let his fingers trace the other's soft lips as he caressed the lovely creature beneath him. He tipped Thranduil's chin and almost let out a gasp as those blue orbs fluttered in pleasure before gazing deeply into his own.

"I love you." Thorin finally whispered, not missing the elation that shone so brightly in Thranduil's eyes and face. "I don't care what happened between you and my grandfather. I love you."

Thranduil closed his eyes slowly and placed soft kisses on Thorin's lips, drawing the dwarf close.

* * *

The feast had been grand. Fresh roasted meat, the bon fire the cool breezy afternoon—everything had resorted to an ambiance of pure bliss and comfort.

Even though Thorin hadn't forgotten what he instructed Kíli just that morning, he found it appreciatively lethargic to stick to the plan, especially as his glance shifted to the elven king every now and then.

What little resolution he had within him about the plan, he felt it washing away every time he saw Thranduil staring back at him with the most sensual of all the gazes.

He was lucky to spend time with the person he had come to love so much. But he was extremely fortunate that he wasn't enquired about his intentions of roaming in that area the first place.

Either Thranduil was hoping Thorin would elaborate himself or he was waiting for the right chance to ask. Whatever it was, Thranduil surely hadn't overlooked that matter and Thorin  _knew_ how tactful Thranduil was as a king.

After the feast, Thranduil had excused himself and Thorin saw it a perfect opportunity to ask for his ponies. They'd be leaving soon and it also provided him a chance to say goodbye. A little later, he rose up from his ground and nodded at Kíli, signalling him to prepare himself as he retraced the elven king's footsteps.

The disadvantage of being a dwarf was that dwarves had short strides. No matter how fast they walked, they could never come closer to the pace set by those perfect creatures with their perfect long limbs—or  _that_ perfect creature with  _his_ perfect long limbs.

When finally he had reached Thranduil's tent, he waited for a second, contemplating if he should announce his presence. However, he soon thought otherwise and entered confidently, with a smug smirk in place.

The smirk quickly faded away as did his confidence when he took in the sight before him with a gaping mouth and eyes that dared to pop off from his skull. The colour in his face doubled immediately and Thorin  _wished_ he had at least knocked.

Thranduil was undressing himself. No, he was  _done_ undressing himself and was now standing stark naked with his back facing the other and his robes lying in a pool near his feet.

He was startled for a split second at the intrusion but as he glanced at the other, his startle melted away to pure adoration and  _arrogance_ as he haughtily regarded the other's bewildered expression.

He smiled and turned away, picking up fresh clothes and taking his time as he dressed himself.

He  _enjoyed_ this. He enjoyed Thorin gaping at his smooth, slender form and was making sure to give Thorin a tough time.

"You know, I'd say you're acting like a dwarfling staring like that." Thranduil said, his complacent voice snapping Thorin back to his senses.

The dwarf prince cleared his throat and tried to ignore the fact that the person of his affection was a pure marble sculpture, standing like that with his ling golden traces falling over his smooth skin.

"I'd say you're acting like a savage undressing like that." Thorin replied, cursing himself when his tone conveyed none but amazement.

Thranduil smirked and continued dressing himself. When he finished, he walked up to the other and stared at him hypnotically, delighted to see Thorin react by turning a deeper shade of crimson.

"It just occurred to me  _melleth,"_  he said, "You never did mention what you two were doing here."

It was that which made Thorin aware of the situation and his objective. He didn't show any of the worry he felt deep within and calmly replied, playing with Thranduil's locks, "We had gone camping."

Thranduil leaned in to the touch but kept his gaze fixed at Thorin's eyes as he moistened his lips.

"Rather a coincidence that we camped at almost the same spot."

Thorin's eyes darted to the soft lips but he slowly brought his eyes up to meet with the other's as he leaned forward to place a kiss at the corner of Thranduil's mouth.

"Rather a coincidence that we took a wrong turn and ended up here."

Thranduil hummed and teased Thorin with feather-soft kisses, "And how you ended up in the rockslide."

"And how there happened to be a cave that my nephew found irresistible to explore." Thorin kept his voice as it was but he felt the constricting feeling he had in his chest.

"At night?"

"Young blood and their foolish decisions."

Thranduil was enquiring. The elven king hoped to catch Thorin at his weakness and repulsive as though it was, Thorin couldn't help but wonder exactly  _how_ much Thranduil knew...or if he knew at all.

All of a sudden, an extremely frantic sound was heard just outside and it didn't even take a second for Thorin to realise who it was.

He shoved Thranduil away and ignoring the look he received from the other, he marched outside, stopping dreadfully as he found two guards restraining his nephew.

"KÍLI!"

Thranduil too joined them seconds after and coolly took in the scene before him.

Kíli on the other hand was fighting and making it hard for the guards to keep him still. He glared at them and practically shouted, "Let me go! You have no reason to treat me like this."

Thorin turned to face his lover and demanded, "Why are they holding him? Let him go!"

Thranduil frowned and looked back up at the guards. As a cue one of them spoke, his professional gaze directed at his king while lifting up the very pouch that Thorin had taken care to bury just the other night, "He had this."

The guard opened the pouch and as he revealed the content, Thorin and Kíli lost all colours from their faces.

Thranduil on the other hand looked intrigued and let his cool eyes fall on Thorin, silently gazing at him with a smouldering fire  _demanding_  an explanation he deserved.

"That's not true! Kíli never had it!" He defended the other but somehow he sounded extremely off as it seemed that it was futile to convince Thranduil.

It seemed that Thranduil  _knew._

"Then how do you explain it hidden in the same spot where I had found you last night?" Thranduil spoke, his gaze boring deep inside Thorin's very being. "How do you explain freshly disturbed earth?"

"I know the sound made by woods, Thorin." He went on, his voice cold and eerie as his gaze, "I know when someone lies to me."

It was then that Thorin's eyes felt a spark. His mind swiftly made all the connections from last night and as it did, he felt the upsurge of anger circling within him.

That was why Thranduil left...if that was the case, was it all a lie?

Scandalous, he threw his silent question at the other, desperately seeking anything—anything at all—that'd prove what they had felt and did was sincere!

Thranduil's eyes however exuded no emotion by that point. He was a king now and the king was only interested in the jewel at that moment.

The anger intensified as it churned Thorin's insides. He begged Mahal for it to be true. For everything to be sincere. He couldn't withstand the thought that his 'One' had fooled him so shamelessly.

"You weren't out hunting." Thorin whispered and looked up at the other with extremem shock and disbelief. "Oh you wretched—"

He drew in a shuddering breath and fought hard to keep himself from lashing out.

"Don't tell me it was all an act." He finally said with desperation laced in his voice.

At that, Thranduil's eyes flickered for a split second before he turned and began walking away.

"Thranduil! Tell me it was REAL!" Thorin yelled while his insides shattered completely by that point. But Thranduil didn't even flinch. "You son of a—YOU PLAYED ME! You're no different than HIM!"

Thranduil paused at that but resumed walking towards the camp. He didn't even look back.

"We'll go to Erebor." The elven king commanded to his guards, "The search is over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely would love to know your opinion on this. I look forward to your feedback and suggestions. :D


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am saying this from the core of my heart: if I had owned The Hobbit, or hell, even Thranduil, The Hobbit would be a slash (Thorinduil) shipper's paradise~~
> 
> AN: So before my last exam, I just HAD to relax and HAD to write a chapter! :D Thank you everyone who've reviewed/faved/followed. You are all amazing people!
> 
> Thanks to velvet_vampiress for this amazing fanart. Check it out. I guarrantee you people a nosebleed!
> 
> h_t_t_p (colon) (slash) (slash) grinningdarling.t_u_m_b_l_ (slash) image (slash) 86678528482
> 
> (it's in tumblr. This damned site is really really hell bent on making me mad.)

The dwarf guard hurried as fast as his legs could carry him. He set a pace which made his legs cramp because of the sheer strain of it but at that moment, he could care less. All that was in his mind was that he  _had_ to reach the throne room. He  _had_ to warn the guards.

He had news to give, one he feared could not even wait for a second longer and one he feared would not be taken lightly.

* * *

The doors flew open and sounds of footsteps could be heard, echoing through the great halls of Erebor. Each march made was in absolute determination and the one who lead them stepped with such surety that could only be granted from pride and a certain taste of victory.

Just as they left the House of Commons (1), Thranduil and his cohorts were stopped by two guards whose steely glare conveyed all the unwelcoming messages they thought of.

It hardly deterred the elven king. He raised his chin and let his strong gaze sweep over them. With the barest hint of a smirk marring his lips, he said with superiority, "Move aside,  _dwarves_. We are expected."

The guards moved in closer tightly packing their formation but Thranduil's authority didn't falter. He raised his brows in amusement before his eyes became fiercer and more determined. The guards didn't budge and Thranduil didn't step back.

At the sight of insolence their king received, few of the elf guards who had escorted him, became alarmed and immediately adjusted their postures so that at any sign of threat, they could take the hairy ones down.

Thranduil sensed their anxiety and with a wave of his hand commanded them to restrain themselves while he continued to focus his glare at the small  _defiant_ creatures _beneath_  him.

An uncomfortable air hung between all of them. Just when it was threatening to worsen, someone yelled to the guards. He was rushed and frantic and he had every reason to be.

"Let them pass!" The other dwarf said, "They have 'em. The king will decide."

At that, the guards' stance faltered for a bit while they looked startled. They still refused to believe what they had just heard and since confusion was painted all over their faces, Thranduil glided his hand in a smooth gesture. The elf guards stepped in such a way that the centre of their group now parted, presenting to them the very heart of Erebor.

Thorin and Kíli.

The princes who looked utterly displeased and completely mutinous. They weren't taken prisoner but from the looks of their faces, it was well guessed that they _preferred_  to be instead of being in that predicament.

Seeing the hesitance on the guards' part, Thranduil's eyes flashed with an emotion which was nothing but arrogance and success.

He had them where he wanted.

The guards' hesitated for a second longer and looked up to see the elven king's smug face that made them sneer at him. Realizing that they really had no option but to comply, slowly the dissolved their formation and stiffly stepped away, letting the consort pass while their eyes flashed with rage as they were kept directed at the insolent group.

* * *

Thrór's eyes sparkled as he saw his youngest great grandson stepping up to him. He had a look of shame and contained fire behind his eyes. Thorin accompanied him but Thrór didn't spare him so much of a glance.

"Welcome home!" He greeted, his voice reflecting the mirth his eyes barely concealed.

Thorin huffed at the response and shot a dirty glare at the king and as for Kíli...surprisingly, he nodded stiffly while straightening his carriage.

The king shifted in his throne and strained his eyes—which relaxed the moment after he saw a small leather pouch peeking out of Kíli's coat.

Kíli's facial features hardened under the inspection and even though he seemed uncomfortable, he didn't say it out loud.

However, Thrór really wasn't interested in all of those pleasantries. He quickly came to the main point, "I knew I could trust you." His voice was cheerful.

Suddenly, his eyes started shining uncannily as his face portrayed a look that no one ever had the privilege of seeing on the wise king's face—certainly not Kíli.

In that moment, Thrór's mind washed out every other thought as a chant rang monotonously. His eyes round and a crazed smile in place, he said in a tone which didn't conceal the obsession he felt, "C'mon lad! Show it to me!"

Thorin shot a sharp glare at him but and Kíli's eyes widened for a split second before hardening right after. But in his state, Thrór registered none of it.

His eyes were fixed on the pouch and the longer the young one made him wait, more his impatience threatened an outburst.

"C'mon laddie!" He coaxed but it was feigned much like his affection.

Kíli still hesitated and it was then that Thrór could no longer hold his annoyance.

"Hurry up with it, boy!" He seethed and didn't miss the surprise coming off from both his grandson and his great grandson.

He growled when still no one moved and with raging steps, made his way towards them  _himself._ However, before he could snatch the bag away from his great grandson, he was quickly stopped by a voice, which he never hoped to hear.

"Such rashness does no one good, king under the mountain." The voice spoke in a tone ever so rich and silky and laced with a smug playfulness which increased the rage Thrór felt towards its owner.

He shifted his line of vision to the source and at the sight before him, he absolutely  _fumed._

His frown deepened and his eyes narrowed so much that the wrinkles on his face become grooves and furrows, making him look the mad man he was as the shadow enhanced them.

" _You."_  He growled while the fiery rage within him increasing as the haughty and insolent face of the elven king came into his view.

His face had no indication of his defiance but Thranduil's eyes gave off every bit of superciliousness that he didn't deem it necessary to hide.

"Ah, you remember." Thranduil spoke in that same smooth and seductive tone, "And here I thought the madness erased your poor memory."

Thrór's sneer became prominent as the elf approached him with his chin raised high while he exuded an air of arrogance.

"But you would." He went on, standing right beside Kíli and sparing a strange glance at Thorin before focusing on the addressed, "How could you  _not_? You can never forget your cheap trick when you insulted me and denied me only that what was rightfully considered as courtesy."

"You were denied your indulgence in jewels—carved laboriously by  _my_ kin." Thrór retorted back venomously, "Cheapness came from you, elven king when you decided to share bed with my  _progeny._ Yes, I am aware. I am not incompetenet to know what goes on under  _my_ roof. But can the same be said about you? _"_

At that, Thranduil's eyes flashed furiously in a heartbeat's time before becoming impassive yet sharp all the same.

"Cheapness comes from your kin when they could even think that they can claim that which is not theirs." He paused, taking in the other's form before continuing, "Of course, I can't blame them. They follow orders from their  _mad_ king with a  _mad_ obsession."

Thranduil didn't give the other time to respond as he snatched away the pouch from Kíli. He opened it hastily and revealed the fabled beauty which made Thrór's mind go blank yet again as the dwarf king stared at it in a deep stupor.

It was so ethereal...so close to his reach.

Thranduil saw the hypnotic gaze the other held and let his own eyes convey the inner fire he bore from the extreme insult Thrór made him face.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it so you fixated fool?" He admonished putting it away from the other's reach, "Watch it well. For you shall  _never_ have it."

Having said that, he spared the other two dwarves one last glance before turning on his heels and commanding his consort to leave the halls immediately.

As he stared at Thranduil's retreating back, Thrór's face contorted and wrinkled massively as the anger and humiliation ate him up inside.

His whole face vibrated with enclosed rage and his eyes grew wider and wider, looking extremely livid and portrayed another emotion that was so foreign and so dark.

Perhaps someone addressed him. Perhaps it was Thorin or Kíli. He didn't know. He didn't register.

His ears burned and he trembled in fury as Thranduil got his revenge by dangling it in front of him and taking it away. Thranduil took his desire away.

Thranduil would pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: (1) I am pretty sure that they didn't name it the 'House of commons' but I didn't know what else to call it.
> 
> Hope you liked it~ Please review!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Well...*sighs*. Nope, still don't own them.
> 
> Warning: Multiple P.O.V's.
> 
> AN: Sorry for the delay! Here's the next installment. Hope you like it. :D And again. thanks to everyone who've taken their time to review and have faved and followed this fic. Your support is encouraging!

Thranduil walked. He kept on walking, noticing nothing about him. His mind was just too clouded and whatever sensation of victory he had felt just moments before all but disappeared.

His mind reeled back to those last counting moments when he held Thorin's gaze. The way he looked at him...the way Thorin had been looking at him when he found out Thraduil's purpose...

A heaviness set about his heart as his vision grew misty. His heart now raced and beat hard as if to try and free itself of the constriction which lay about it.

He quickly hardened his gaze and focused on more pressing matters. Like what their next move could be. Much to his relief, he quickly found the mist disappearing from his eyes as his line of sight became clearer.

However, the uncomfortable sensation didn't disappear and Thranduil had no choice but to hope that he'd somehow keep his mask at least till a great distance was marked between themselves and Erebor.

It was not how he envisioned it ending, he found himself thinking.

His chest felt that strange pressure yet again as thoughts returned centring him and Thorin, his face showing signs by means of a light frown plastered on his forehead.

 _I never wanted to involve_ us.

But he had no choice. Like Thrór, he too was passionate regarding this lored beauty he kept in his coat. Like Thrór, in this matter, he too had put his passions before his desires.

_After all, we're but slaves to our passions._

* * *

Never before had Thorin felt so numb. He stood in place, his eyes frozen to a trance as by and by flashes of images replayed in his head. They were not as much about the Mountain of Light or Thrór and his betrayal as they were about a certain king who had captivated him and stole his heart.

His mind preserved the exact picture of Thranduil as he looked at Thorin, his eyes burning with a smouldering fire and shining ever so brightly with a materialistic lust.

A lust that made him toy with Thorin's feelings. A lust that broke his heart.

He felt so weak-kneed. His lips trembled as he recounted the last gaze Thranduil threw at him. They were lustful and ardent but...was it all for the cursed jewel? Was none of it for him?

_Was none of it real?_

He didn't register the light tug he felt on his arm. When he was tugged a bit harder, he slowly turned with disbelieving eyes those landed upon his youngest nephew.

Kíli was still here. He was looking at his uncle with concern and sympathy and honestly, had it not been for him, Thorin probably would've slumped on the floor. He truly had no energy left in him at that point.

He gave his heart away to the ethereal elf. He loved with everything and considered him to be the One.  _His_ One.

And now he had been thrown away. All for that dire piece of  _rock._

_I'm such a fool._

* * *

Kíli felt absolutely helpless, seeing his uncle like that. He was always used to seeing a fire inherent in Thorin—a powerful leader and motivator. Understandably, his heart shattered as this enigma had been brutally discarded by that loathsome creature.

Much like himself...who'd been discarded by Thrór.

He frowned and gritted his teeth while he looked down, inhaling deeply to try and hold the outcome of stings he felt prickling his eyes.

Thrór stood right in front of him, heaving wildly and shaking terribly with rage. To have that, which he sought, be dangled in front of him and then be denied of it—that surely must've caused frustration. Not to mention, the king was now on the receiving end of insult—the very same apparently which, he threw at Thranduil.

By now, Kíli understood the bigger picture. It was entirely about that: who would get to have the last laugh? Who'd get to have the mythical jewel?

It had been  _entirely_  about that. Who cared if expectations got shattered? Idealism broken, love lost? As long as they got what they wanted.

A burning sensation covered Kíli's face and ears as revelation dawned on him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch that old geezer in front of him and kill him with his bare hands!

Once Kíli's world  _centred_ on him. His _blasted_ approval. Once Thranduil meant the  _world_ to Thorin—Kíli could see it clearly at his uncle's eyes.

How could those pretentious mad fools toy with their expectations?

How could Thrór play with him? All Kíli ever wanted was to make his great grandfather proud! All he wanted was t be acknowledged! Was it too much to ask?

His grip on Thorin's arm tightened subconsciously, knuckles slowly turning white. However, neither he nor Thorin acknowledged any of that.

He lifted his eyes as he felt a warm hand patting his back. He remained hesitant for a second before turning to face the other.

His face almost cracked when his eyes landed on Thorin. His uncle had a broken look set in his face but even so, he consoled the younger dwarf and urged him to stay strong.

It was then that Kíli saw  _who_ it was that remained proud of him no matter what. Who it was that acknowledged his being and found him worthy to be an heir of Durin.

It was then that he patted Thorin back and nodded in a silent understanding.

This was a person who looked after him like his own father. This was someone who loved him unconditionally.

This was someone who Kíli too would look after. No matter what.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that wasn't too confusing. Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, never was. *sighs*
> 
> AN: So...we're pretty close to the finale. I can't even describe how wonderful you guys have been. Thank you very *very* much for supporting this fic!

Thráin opened the doors in haste. His breath was hitched right at his throat and his heart drummed in such an erratic nature that it threatened to burst out from the rib cage containing it.

As for Thráin himself, just as word had reached his ears— the word of all that which had taken place in the throne room— he immediately felt immense rage and utter disgust towards the elves. His father had been insulted and he was not about to accept any of that.

When he had reached the throne room, the first thing that came to his view was a trembling Thrór, whose face went red with anger.

"Father!" He called out but Thrór paid no attention.

Thráin walked right up to the eldest of them all and before he could even say anything, Thrór looked up and muttered something in Khuzdul.

It was then that he noticed that wild look in his father's eyes. The look he reserved  _only_  while talking about the diamond—a look that portrayed obsession in its most crude form that grew wilder and wilder as Thrór kept on staring at him.

Suddenly, without any warning, the dwarf king went past Thráin and stormed towards the door.

"Father, wait!" He called after him but it was of no avail. Thrór was desperate and agile in this state. He would listen to no one.

Thrór turned a deaf ear to his son and made way towards the door. He grabbed hold of a guard's sword and ordered the baffled dwarf in a tone that welcomed no question, "Close the gates!"

"Father!" Thráin followed the dwarf king to some distance but when it was made clear that his efforts of stopping him would be futile, Tháin halted in his tracks and saw his father's retreating form.

The corner of his eyes finally caught hold of two figures, silently standing in the corner—one in absolute shock of Thrór's sudden course of action and another shocked and in utter disbelief of everything that had been going on up till that point.

After a few moments, he caught Kíli's gaze and as a response, narrowed his own eyes dangerously before letting his eyes fall on Thorin.

His son was looking pale and stricken. And Thráin now confirmed  _why._

His eyes narrowed further, making every wrinkle stand out prominently.

"You're a disgrace." He said coldly and chose to ignore the glare from Thorin being directed at him. " _Both_ of you." He said again looking at Kíli.

Before anyone could provide him a retort, he walked out of that room to head for his weapons. His father needed him.

* * *

"Uncle," Kíli nudged the only dwarf remaining in that enormous room. He had stayed silent for way too long and if he continued doing so, they'd have a problem escalating out of hand.

"Do something." He  _pleaded,_ tugging hard at the other _._ "C'mon! That mad cow's going to bury all of us in the ground by the looks of it."

Because of that, Thorin seemed to snap out of his stupor as his gaze quickly became sharper and more calculating. Soon, it regained the characteristic steeliness that defined the very essence of Thorin Oakenshield.

"Grab your bow Kíli." He finally ordered with exuding determination. "We're going after them."

* * *

Thranduil furrowed his brows when he noticed the corridor to the exit being completely empty with no dwarf in sight.

As he neared, his frown deepened when his eyes took in the sight of the gates being closed.

_What in Arda's name is this?_

He wondered, taking great care not to ignore the warnings he felt coming from his intuition. He glanced around and saw the grave faces of his men who were now anticipating something very anxiously. By their pallor, it was well guessed that they bode something ominous to be in store from them.

And much to his denial, so did Thranduil.

He strode along and didn't stop. His demeanour didn't reveal the concern he was feeling as they inched towards the sealed off exit. Much to his relief neither did those of his men.

_Just what are you planning, you old fool?_

He quickly turned, just in time to catch the sight of one of his guard falling with an arrow sticking from his throat.

"What is this?" He yelled, taken completely by surprise.

Just then, two more of his guards fell claimed by arrows and very quickly, the remainder of them quickly enclosed their king and drew their weapons out.

"Watch out!" One of them hollered before letting out a gasp as he fell too.

Thranduil drew his sword out and quickly came out from the safe cocoon formed just for him.

"My king, you should stay inside!" He heard someone say.

"Don't be impractical, soldier." He swiftly faced him and said in an adamant tone, forcing the guard to comply. "I can't just stand by  _hiding!"_

He scanned the crevices for the dwarf archers but they were just too well hidden in the cracks and croons of the blasted mountains they took time to  _carve._

The worry he felt now was becoming a dreadful reality and although he saw it capable for Thrór to take desperate measures, he still wasn't prepared for him to be so organized in a livid state. It was beyond normal behaviour and Thranduil truly counted on Thrór's state to take a hold on him for them to get out safely and go well beyond his reach!

His eyes widened in a haste realization.

No, it couldn't be Thór. He had help. But  _who_ was a question that still had to be answered. A flash of strong jaws and those familiar determined eyes flashed in his mind and suddenly, Thranduil felt himself growing heavy with disappointment.

Surely it couldn't be  _him_?

However, he didn't have time to indulge in the pang with which his heart throbbed. He was quickly shaken out of his thoughts by a wild cry. With bewilderment, he saw a bunch of dwarves running towards them and engaging quickly with whatever elf guards he had left.

His men hastily formed a barrier in front of him and fought them off valiantly. However, they knew as much as him that it was a lost cause. The elves were tired and outnumbered and practically out in the open. Still they fought. They had to save their king.

"Go your majesty!" One of them bellowed out in utter desperation, "Please. Mirkwood needs you."

Thranduil's legs suddenly felt heavy. He couldn't abandon his men!

But the guard who addressed him had in his eyes every bit of an expression which pleaded him not to let their efforts go in vain.

"Go. Now!" He yelled again with those expressive eyes. He relaxed considerably before engaging in his fight when Thranduil—with much hesitation and helplessness in his part— nodded and took a bypass deeper in the halls where he hoped to find another path.

It was another hard act that Thranduil had to perform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thrain is not bad...he's just...totally dedicated to his dad. Umm, author's license? ^^; Please review!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine, never was. *sighs*
> 
> Warning: Character death.
> 
> AN: The next chapter will be the last chapter and after that i'll write up an epilogue. I can't even describe how wonderful you guys have been. Thank you very *very* much for supporting this fic!

Thranduil quickly pressed himself against the wall, hoping against hope that he was not noticed by a few of the dwarves who went past the corridors. He narrowed his eyes and was about to turn when much to his dismay, the hilt of his sword softly touched the walls.

The dwarves quickly stopped in their tracks and came very close to the spot where Thranduil was hiding, as they muttered something in Khuzdul.

Thranduil once again found his heart racing. He surely could take those inferior dwarves however, their deity had gifted them with a shrill voice and a deafening scream and he knew that not knowing these wretched walls, he'd soon be outnumbered by more soldiers who'd love to hack off his head.

"Oi, did you hear something?" Came from one of the voices, which became louder as the owner approached.

Thranduil drew in his breath as silently as he could and narrowed his eyes. He  _prayed_ to the Valar to aid him while he very slowly lifted up his weapon, should need arise.

However, when the dwarf decided it was nothing but his ears playing tricks on him, he retreated and led the others away from there.

Thranduil released his breath and sheathed his sword before quickly getting out of there.

* * *

He followed tunnels and shortcuts. All they did— apart from disorienting him— was leading him to what seemed to be the royal chambers.

He didn't know if it was a bane or a boon in disguise—so long as the others were busy downstairs.

His heart suddenly twitched as his mind raced back to his men. They chose to be left behind. They chose to give him some time.

_It had to be done._

He shook his head to discard those thoughts so that he could focus on his escape. However, if he got rid of one depressing thought, his mind reeled in another one.

If Thrór wasn't coherent enough to command, then who was it that had been so perfect with his strategies? Who could hate him so much?

Who indeed except the one he had just  _betrayed_?

He exhaled as his face twisted in pain.

He didn't mean to. Thorin got caught up. He certainly didn't mean to  _betray_ him!

His eyes suddenly stung as restlessness gathered in his heart. He couldn't get the image out of his mind—the image of Thorin looking so let down and so  _deceived_  while he mercilessly threw away his love.

Thranduil stooped down behind a pillar and waited for more guards to pass as he now was in what seemed to be like the House of Dignitaries.

As he waited, his thoughts haunted him again and his chest grew painful with burden as his mind retraced those last moments he shared with Thorin. He felt so bad.

Guilt ate him up inside and no matter how much he tried and consoled himself, he felt  _filthy._ The dwarf professed his love for him and he threw it away.

He threw away the love he too felt for him.

 _I didn't mean to do so, meleth_. He thought in desperation as his eyes stung at the corners.  _Forgive me._

When he was certain that he could not be seen, he gingerly came out from behind the pillar and quickly scanned the great hall for any hidden passage. The hall seemed to be lavishly decorated—too much for the commons to witness.

Therefore, if it had been designed for the dignitaries to meet, then there would definitely be a passage to lead them safely outside, should any grave danger arose.

He tapped the walls and felt them carefully with his hands.

When he could feel nothing but smoothness and plainness beneath his palm, Thranduil snarled and cursed in his native tongue, swearing those wretched creatures and their wretched means of secrecy.

Deciding not to use up much of his time, he quickly focused on another part of the hall. He had no distraction in his mind. The only thought that rang was that he  _had_ to get out.

He barely had any chance to react when he heard a blood curdling scream followed by the sight of a blurry figure pouncing on him as his sword glistened mercilessly.

Moments before he could meet his fatal end, Thranduil quickly dodged the attack and drew his sword out.

He could hardly conceal his surprise as he took in the form charging towards him.

Thrór somehow found him. However, it wasn't the Thrór he had met just minutes ago. It was a more demeaning version of his.

 _This_  Thrór had an ominous look set about him, the shadows of the hall enhancing the madness that clearly overtook his mind.  _This_  Thrór had that despondent look shinning in his eyes.

Desperation mingled with pure madness flared in his eyes as he stroke with his sword.

Thranduil swore that the dwarf's power increased each time their swords clashed. So much in fact that the elven king found it increasingly difficult to keep on blocking his attacks. Not only that, Thrór's very movements clearly spoke how  _desperate_ he now felt.

Thór was heard muttering in his native tongue and the madness in his eyes simply increased.

Another hit clashed against his sword and Thranduil didn't have a chance of launching an attack himself. Thrór was relentless.

"It's mine." Suddenly, the dwarf spoke and his tone was ever so ill-omened, "It's MINE!"

Thranduil sidestepped another blow and because of his lack of nimbleness, Thrór lost balance as his sword lunged deeply towards the ground, cutting into the air. It was all what Thranduil needed. Seizing the opportunity, he quickly came up behind the dwarf and before the other could gather himself, Thranduil knocked him unconscious with the hilt on his own sword.

He waited for a few seconds, all of his senses on absolute alert, while he caught his breath. A few seconds of distraction and he'd have had his head chopped off. It was a worrying notion and Thranduil had the Valar to thank for not abandoning him.

When it was certain Thrór was out cold, Thranduil hastily went back to search for an exit.

Precious time went by and Thranduil was no closer to finding his way out than he had been before. By now, his heart grew anxious. He had came up empty with the area he had covered so far and the area which lay ahead of him was so vast that it concerned Thranduil gravely if he could make it out in time.

Another dead end.

He swore under his breath and ran to the opposite wall, redoing the entire painstaking process. He became so engrossed that he didn't even register the changes occurring behind him.

Thrór had come back to his senses and sword in hand, he was gingerly approaching the elf who was too preoccupied to notice him.

Slowly he lifted his sword.

His eyes shone in an eerie glint as a wicked smile crossed him.

They thought they could get away with it. But he wouldn't let them.

Cold sweat ran down his back as Thranduil grew more and more desperate. He pressed his palm against the sheet of solid rock and forlornly tried to find any crack— no matter how thin it was—anything at all that'd prove that his efforts weren't useless.

However as time ran by, he felt his hopes tethering on the edge balancing precariously only on his rapidly fleeting beliefs.

Perhaps it was intuition or just a coincidence but Thranduil frowned and quickly turned on his heels, his eyes widened immediately at what he saw.

A sword was driving down towards him with great speed and at that moment, his mind went blank.

All of a sudden, he felt his legs extremely numb and heavy. He couldn't move and none of his thoughts were coherent enough for him to act. All his eyes saw was the gleaming blade plunging towards him and his mind chanted frantically that he was going to die.

"NO!"

Thranduil jolted awake from his trance by another scream. Before long, a blur of fur and hair went past his eyes followed by the sound of a sword being clattered on the floor.

Another blur of grey rose from the ground and lurched towards the other with a feral scream which quickly died down as a sword was pushed through his heart.

It was then that Thranduil's vision cleared up. He became coherent and saw the scene before him.

Thrór lay on the floor in a pool of blood, gasping for air and clutching his chest. His sword lay far away from him and right in front of Thranduil stood a form heaving in the heat of the moment and holding a blade drenched in the dwarf king's blood.

Thrór seemed to be saying something but his voice was far too weak to be heard. He was gasping for breath. Soon after, he went entirely still.

At that moment, the other dwarf threw down his own weapon as his fists were clenched tightly. This was not an easy task for him.

At that moment, Thranduil recognised who it was. The unmistakable stout form belonged to his lover...who saved him from his kin.

Thranduil licked his lips and tried forming words but he was too overwhelmed by the deep and intense feeling which reigned in his heart. His eyes glistened at the revelation of everything and when Thorin faced him, he felt the utmost of shame and humiliation.

Thorin was now looking at him with a hard gaze but there was something about it which told Thranduil that all was not lost. He dropped on his knees and gazed into his lover's eyes, not knowing how to begin atoning for what he had done.

He didn't even remember shaking his head and letting his mask fall off while whispered just three words which he truly meant.

" _Meleth_ , forgive me."

He didn't even remember the strong arms wrapping around him as the other kissed him deeply on his lips.

But what he did remember was what truly mattered.

Thorin loved him. That he was forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No it's not Thorin launching the attack on the elves. How could he, right? He's a babe! Please review!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.
> 
> AN: The final chapter!
> 
> I can't even begin to say how much I've appreciated your support. Thank you all for being so lovely and motivating me along the way!

In his entire lifetime, Thorin Oakenshield swore that he had never seen someone who could look so beautiful and so innocent just by staring up at him with big, azure eyes.

For one among countless number of times, he found himself absolutely mesmerised by Thranduil as the elf whispered to him with earnestness painted all over his face.

" _Meleth_ , forgive me." He whispered and at that moment, whatever respire Thorin had been feeling towards the blond had quickly melted away. His mind soothed entirely and his arms subconsciously folded around the other as he felt Thranduil bury his head against his chest.

"Hush now," he cooed to the elf, capturing his lips in a loving kiss, "It is fine. I understand."

"I never intended to put you in line." Thranduil said, leaning towards the touch Thorin provided him. "I never wanted all of this to happen. I just wanted that diamond. I lusted over it for too long. I didn't see clearly what mattered to me the most."

Thorin it his lips and sighed. He had a lot many things to say but he chose not to. Thranduil already was repenting and only the realization of his wrong was enough for Thorin.

He drew his lover close and went on caressing his hair.

"As did my grandfather." He replied back, trying not to look back at the fallen figure. He too never intended for everything to turn up the way it did. However, Thrór was lost in his greed long before. It was but his shell that Thorin had taken down.

He couldn't hide his surprise when he felt Thranduil's arms wrapping around himself as the other spoke in the gentlest tone he had mingled with shyness.

"I did mean it." Thranduil confessed, pulling away just enough so he could hold gazes with Thorin. Once more, they exuded sincerity in its purest form and once again, Thorin found captivated by the soulful eyes which landed on him.

"I meant  _everything_ ", Thranduil went on kissing Thorin's cheek lightly, "And it  _was_ real."

Finally, a smile was seen on Thorin's lips. At that very moment, the dwarf prince felt an enormous weight being lifted up from his heart and the pure delight which took its place was so overwhelming than any other emotion Thorin had ever felt.

He cupped his love's cheeks and kissed him passionately.

"And it still is", he responded in a hushed tone and smiled widely as he took note of the sparkle of mirth coming from Thranduil's eyes. "Should you accept?"

"Oh but I do." Thranduil responded brightly and before Thorin could say anything else, he found himself being showered in kisses that the elven king so lovingly planted on him.

It seemed like eternity when they both remained in each other's embrace. However, the peace and tranquillity didn't last long as they were both utterly shocked at the sound of Thorin's name being called in a frantic tone.

Both turned around and Thorin's face immediately fell as he saw his nephew standing a few feet away from him, breathing laboriously. His hand was clenched on his shoulder and from where they stood, Thorin could easily see dark crimson liquid escaping from beneath the young one's fingers as he staggered towards the two of them.

It only took a moment for Thorin to understand what had taken place. It only took a moment for him to be in a state of utter shock.

"Call off the attack, Uncle." Kíli rasped and winced as a sharp pain took a hold of him. "Not many elves are left."Kíli was weak and from his appearance, it seemed he had put on a great fight. "It's—"

Before he could finish, he gasped loudly as his eyes widened with utter pain flashing from them. Before either of them could even begin to fathom what had just taken place, Kíli was roughly shoved aside, revealing a maddened Thráin pulling out a bloodied knife.

Thorin's mind filled with shock and terror and all of a sudden, he couldn't find it in himself to remember how to breathe.

He saw Kíli falling to the side and coughing up blood; he saw Thranduil rushing for the young one's aid but none of it registered in his mind.

All he took in was the form of his father, who looked like unleashing the world's rage against him.

Seconds had passed before Thorin finally snapped out of his horror. The shock was gone and was now replaced with a boiling anger as Thranduil's soothing words to Kíli reached his ears.

"Why?" He snarled at his father, hardly keeping himself together. "WHY? WHY WHY WHY? Why did you do that? Why did you hurt MY nephew?"

His voice lost all its poise as he began yelling as desperation and disappointment cornered him.

"What did he do to YOU? He had even COMPLIED your foolish ORDERS! Why did you hurt him from behind, you COWARD?"

"Watch your tongue!" Thráin screamed in return, his voice booming in the hall enhanced more by the echoes reflecting off the walls. He snarled fiercely, throwing away his composure and dignity as he addressed his son in a way one would address his enemy. "How could _you_  do that? How could YOU kill my FATHER? How could you betray your kin? How could BOTH of you be so vain?"

"Vain? We never blackened the faces of our kin over some silly ROCK!" Thorin retorted back, eyeing the other sceptically. His sword lay on the ground and one wrong move would make him injured.

It was so unexpected. It broke his heart but it seemed his father had decided whom to avenge.

"We never endangered anyone for the sake of satisfying one's foolish obsessions! If anything, we have tried our hardest to PREVENT it! Whatever is happening, it is all on YOU!"

Thráin's demeanour changed rapidly from angry to pure livid at that comment. His snarl became dangerous as his hold on his weapon tightened.

"No, it is all on you." He hissed dangerously while shooting a dirty gaze at Thranduil, "You betray our people. Your own family? For what? For that opportunistic bastard? You think he loves you? He'll bed anyone who satisfies  _his_ greed!"

"Enough!" Thorin roared and Thráin was taken aback by his son's reaction, even if for a moment, before gathering his bearings.

"Don't you speak to him like that!" Thorin went on, his own voice etched with warning, "Even if he had wronged some of us, he  _never_ had the intention of killing over some petty jewel."

That was perhaps the last straw Thráin could handle. In the blink of an eye, he charged fiercely at Thorin and launched into merciless attacks.

Thorin cursed himself for being weapon-less but due to his agility, he barely was able to remain unscathed while dodging attacks from his more experienced father. After all, he had seen much and it took a level of tactical genius to formulate the ambush within  _minutes_.

Minutes went by and Thráin showed practically no sign of exhaustion much to Thorin's dismay. Because of all the physical and emotional upheaval he faced all day long, exhaustion was finally setting in and he didn't know how much longer he'd last.

The older dwarf was pushing Thorin against one of the walls, his plan to corner him and by the looks of it, Thráin would have no moral crisis of taking his son's life—seeing as it were, it was  _Thorin_ who'd slain Thrór. The only person whom Thráin  _worshipped._

In a moment of carelessness, Thorin's footing gave away. As he tripped on the floor, he knew that he had met his match when Thráin's dagger came down towards him with lightening speed.

Thorin narrowed his eyes, bracing himself for the impact but was immediately taken aback when he attack fell through midway, much like his father, who went still before his eyes rolled at the back of his head and he fell callously on the floor.

Thorin looked up with a huge surprise and took in the form of his lover. Thranduil had his sword in hand, hilt extended midair while he inhaled heavily, looking coldly down at the fallen dwarf.

"You..." Thorin felt his voice growing dry as he took in Thráin's very still body on the floor.

"Just put him to rest." Thranduil replied, sheathing his sword, before attending Kíli, "He will be fine. What you'll do with him—I leave that up to you. But as for your nephew, he requires immediate medical attention."

Thorin quickly regained his senses at the mention of Kíli. He rose up hastily, securing his father and said, "I'll call off the attack. You take Kíli to the healers."

Before leaving, he heard Thranduil calling his name. As he turned, he saw the elven king smiling in gratitude as he said, "Thank you."

Thorin smiled back and nodded. He knew what Thranduil referred to and returned his own thanks for saving their lives.

He started heading for the doorway but before he could leave entirely, he glanced at the other over his shoulder and spoke in a meaningful tone, "I too meant every bit of it."

While he headed towards the raging attack, he didn't notice the subtle smile spread across Thranduil's lips as he gently lifted Kíli up and went in search for the healer.

* * *

"You know, we never decided what we should do about it." Thorin said sitting beside his father in his chamber, referring to the Ered en Calad that Thranduil still had on his person.

Thrain was out of danger but it was a long road for him towards full recover— physical  _and_ psychological.

Thranduil was leaning against Thráin's bedpost, lost in his thoughts when the voice of his lover brought him back to attention. He tilted his head slightly and spoke with a bit of hesitation, "I was thinking about the same thing."

Thorin arched a brow, indicating Thranduil to elaborate.

The elven king caught the hint well and went on thoughtfully, "It did belong to Thingol. And we  _are_ in a way his descendants. However," He paused as a light frown appeared between his brows, "As long as it stays with either of us, it will go on causing disputes and bloodshed."

Thorin straightened at Thranduil's reply, clearly very interested to know what Thranduil intended.

"So what do you propose?" He asked and was slightly perplexed when the elf's lips curled with a faint smile.

His eyes followed Thranduil as the other walked up to one of the open windows, overlooking a cliff. Thranduil took out the pouch and gingerly untied it and once more, as the jewel was taken out, its splendour put both of them in absolute awe.

However, Thranduil quickly tightened his fingers over it and Thorin got even more curious when the elf dangled the jewel far beyond the window sill.

"It was better when it was nothing but an elusive lore," the elven king spoke softly, his eyes having a faraway look in them before they hardened with determination. "Let it be so."

With that, he flung the jewel out of the window making Thorin jump out of his chair and join him as they both caught a sight of it rolling down the cliff, before disappearing between trees and boulders.

And so it was lost again. The Ered en Calad—the Mountain of Light—which had been sought over for centuries; which had caused so many fights, betrayals and bloodshed was once again became the object of fascination. A fable whose myth would never fade. It would go on enticing people, captivating them in hopes for seeing it again.

It would only be a matter of time before its search would be on again.

 _But not today_.  _Not anytime sooner._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of MOL but there's an epilogue! :D


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Surely none of this- except the plot- is mine.
> 
> AN: Finally! The Epilogue in someone's P.O.V.

It has been a week since that incident. Luckily, Thorin was just in time to call off the attack. Imagine the surprise on the guards' faces when the saw their prince barking orders at them to fall back. Imagine their surprise doubling when they saw their  _older_ prince leaning against Thorin before being shoved towards the guards.

Imagine their surprise  _tripling_  when Thorin ordered them to confiscate all of Thráin's weapons and locking him up in a room.

Yes, a few elves remained but they were the grateful ones, escaping only with not-so-life-threatening injuries. As for those who had fallen...they were paid respect and were given proper burial.

As was done for Thrór.

Though...if they knew what he became— and it was suspected that they had an idea— they'd probably not aspire the dwarflings to become  _entirely_ like him. Well...they didn't, actually. So the idea was very much in the air.

Thráin never fully recovered from the shock of losing Thrór. He became more and more withdrawn and one day, he might even leave Erebor for unknown purposes. Thorin was saddened to see his father like that but he saw his other side too.

So, Thorin is next in line for the throne. His coronation will be held sometime around next month. Dwalin is already looking up the charts. Auspicious dates and all. Till then, Balin would be in counsel with Thorin.

So one month of free time and Thorin is using it so brilliantly. Don't ask with  _whom._

No, don't you roll your eyes. You know as well as I that Thranduil is a lovely bird. Kind and all. When he's not being snooty, he does come and chat us up. Well...he sits and says things but probably thinks we're idiots. I mean, not our fault he can't keep up with the current affairs. Right?

Oh c'mon! No don't roll your eyes again.

Anyway, love is a-blooming and pretty soon I think we'll be having a royal wedding.

And another royal wedding will follow too. Hehe...what? WHAT?

My wedding, you daft pointy eared elf! MY wedding. With that bosomed captain lady, I met in your camp. What's her name again? You know...the red haired one!

Although, I imagine it'd take some time. I won't look good in this blasted  _sling_  and oh—yes, thank  _Mahal_ that old croon missed my heart by  _inches_. See why you should sharpen your weapons? Hehehe. Tough luck for him, eh?

What? AGAIN with your eye-roll. I'm not being disrespectful. He tried to KILL me!

Uncle is the only one in this family who loves me. Oh and Mother, Fíli. Balin. Dwalin. Ori, Nori, Bifur-Bofur-Bombur...umm...yeah. So everyone loves me. I'm adorable.

By the way, you still haven't told me her name.

Hmm...actually, I could snuggle with you. Hm hm hm- now, now. You don't have to hide your cute little crush from me. I know how you stare at me when you think I'm not watching. I have been  _noticing_ over the week. You're not half bad.

Yes, less on the bosom package but still refined with feminine beauty, my love. I'm a prince, you know! I'll lavish you with love and respect.

You—you do understand what I'm saying, right? Otherwise I'll make a fool of myself.

Ooookay, you're staring. Is that one of those stares of love and admiration? Ohh, or is it something  _intimate_? Ohh baby, baby. It's improper to do it  _here,_ in the healer's ward! Oh but you're so bold and naughty, aren't you?

"Umm Kíli, he doesn't understand—"

Oh not now! I'm busy!

Where was I? Oh yes. Ohh your eyes are so beautiful and your cheekbones—they can cut glass, I wager. Oh my love, what is your name? What enchantment you hold behind your eyes?

"Kíli...he—"

Not NOW! Whoever you are.

I can't keep my gaze away from you, my mysterious keeper of heart. Oh let me caress your lovely form. Your lovely bosoms. Ohh how... _small_ they are!

_Smack!_

Wh-what? What happened? Oh my love, what have I done to make you so cross? Why are you glaring me like that! No- no no! Don't turn your back. Face ME! I'm sorry. Love?

"Kíli! That's not a female."

Spare your pardon?

"That's a male elf."

Huh! No.

"It is. Trust me, nephew. He's male."

"And he's cross."

...Wh-what? No. Really? So he had no...so I fondled a...so you two heard all of it?

"Yes."

"All of it."

Oh...bugger.

You don't happen to know the name of that red haired beauty back at your camp, eh Thranduil?

"KÍLI!"

What? She's the keeper of my heart, Uncle!

"Like  _him?_  Does your cheek hurt?"

Okay  _first,_ it was a mistake. All of you elves look the same to me.  _Second,_ yes.

"Oh little one—"

I'm not LITTLE! I'm taller than the average dwarf. You hear that, ladies?

"Kíli, they're all male."

...Oh...

"And you think I'm a lovely bird, now do you?"

...Umm...

"I'm flattered."

"I'm just speechless."

...Umm...

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Ew. I'll just go to sleep then. Oh and put in a word to the nice  _female_ captain for me, will you Thranduil?

"KÍLI!"

Or I'll do it myself. I'm a charmer.

"KÍLI!"

Okay fine! I'm going to take a nap.

Oye baby, you sure you're male?

"KÍLI!"

Alright!  _Sheesh._  Adults.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wraps up MOL. But I'm not done! There's still 'The Investment' and the dark-AU-ish Silmarillion/Hobbit mashed up mpreg fic and so many more ideas I have inside my twisted brain.
> 
> I really want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who've constantly provided their support, have taken the time to read and enjoy this fic. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Like? Love? Too complicated? Too...similar with something you've read? I'll happily welcome any suggestions! Please review. :)


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